Ulrich  Middeldorf 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


http://archive.org/details/sketchofchesterhOOhard 


A  SKETCH  OF 


CHESTER  HARDING,  ARTIST 


DRAWN  BY  HIS  OWN  HAND 


EDITED  BY  HIS  DAUGHTER 

MARGARET  E.  WHITE 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 

1890 


Copyright,  1890, 
Br  MARGARET  E.  WHITE. 


All  rights  reserved* 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge^  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &  Company. 


Unknown  it  is  to  me,  who  handed  down 

From  sire  to  son  my  humble  family ; 

Whether  they  dwelt  in  low  obscurity, 

Or  by  achievements  purchased  high  renown ; 

Whether  with  princely  or  baronial  crown 

Their  brows  were  bound,  or  martyr-wreath  of  flame  : 

No  glories  mark  the  track  through  which  my  name 

Hath  come :  I  only  know  it  as  my  own. 

Alford. 


CONTENTS. 


PA6B 


Introduction   5 

CHAPTER  I.  1792-1817. 
Boyhood.  —  Forest  Clearing.  —  Army  Life.  —  Mar- 
riage. —  Poverty.  —  Sign-painting  19 

CHAPTER  II.  1817-1823. 
Beginning  of  Career  as  Artist.  —  Life  in  Pittsburgh ; 
Paris,  Ky. ;  St.  Louis ;  Northampton.  —  Departure 
for  England  37 

CHAPTER  III.  1823-1824. 
Contemporary  Notices.  —  Lines  by  Miss  L.  J.  Park. 

—  Voyage  to  England.  —  Birmingham.  —  London. 

—  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence.  —  Letters  to  S.  F.  Ly- 
man. —  Letters  to  his  Wife.  —  Mr.  Hunter  ...  60 

CHAPTER  IV.  1824. 
Holkham.  —  Duke  of  Sussex.  —  Letters  to  his  Wife. 

—  Letters  to  S.  F.  L.  —  Glasgow.  —  New  Lanark. 

—  Duke  of  Hamilton  94 

CHAPTER  V.  1824-1826. 
Ireland.  —  Duke  of  Norfolk.  —  Paris.  —  Glasgow.  — 
Journey  to  London.  —  Arrival  of  Family  in  Glas- 
gow. —  Return   to  Boston.  —  Sonnet  by  J.  S. 
Knowles  134 


iv 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VI.  1826-1830. 
Letters.  —  Emily  Marshall ;    Timothy   Pickering  ; 
Washington  AUston  ;  N.  P.  Willis  ;  Judge  Mar- 
shall ;  John  Randolph ;  J.  C.  Calhoun  ;  Daniel 
Webster.  —  Home  in  Springfield,  Mass  176 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Letters  from  1836-1864    204 


CHAPTER  VIIL  1846-1847. 
Second  Visit  to  England.  —  Paints  Rogers  ;  Alison ; 
Lord  Aberdeen.  —  Salmon  Fishing.  —  Return  to 
Boston  218 

CHAPTER  IX.  1846-1866. 
Daniel  Webster.  —  Letters.  —  Love  of   Boston.  — 
Letters  during  the  War  of  the  Rebellion.  —  His 
Last  Picture.  —  Illness.  —  Death.  —  Notices  by 
the  Press  240 


NOTE  ON  THE  PORTRAITS. 

The  portraits  in  this  volume  are  photogravure  repro- 
ductions from  paintings  hy  Chester  Harding.  The 
frontispiece  was  painted  in  1859,  when  the  artist  was 
in  his  sixty-eighth  year,  and  is  the  latest  of  his  portraits 
of  himself.  The  earlier  one,  facing  page  13^,  was 
painted  in  London  in  182 If,,  at  the  age  of  thirty-two.  The 
portrait,  facing  page  38,  of  Mrs.  Harding  at  the  age  of 
twenty-seven  was  painted  in  1821,  within  two  years  of 
his  first  effort.  The  other  likeness  of  her,  facing  page 
WJf.,  was  made  eighteen  years  later. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  generation  to  which  Chester  Hard- 
ing belonged  has  passed  off  the  stage.  There 
must  be  many  still  living,  however,  who 
can  recall  him  as  an  old  man  of  command- 
ing presence,  with  white  hair  and  flowing 
beard,  whose  uncommonly  tall  figure,  though 
slightly  bowed  by  age,  was  still  enough 
above  the  average  height  to  make  him  con- 
spicuous in  any  assembly  ;  and  whose  hand- 
some face  expressed  kindliness  and  humor. 
Nature  was  bountiful  to  him  in  an  unusual 
degree,  and  to  uncommon  personal  attrac- 
tions added  a  mind  of  more  than  ordinary 
power,  quick  perceptions,  and  a  love  for 
the  beautiful  in  nature  and  art.  He  was  so 
ready  to  see  and  assimilate  into  his  own  be- 
ing all  the  refinements  of  cultivated  men 
and  manners  that,  for  those  who  saw  him 
fo\r'  the  first  time,  it  was  difficult  to  believe 
th^t  he  was  absolutely  without  school  educa- 
tion, and  that  he  had  grown  to  maturity  in 
the  wilds  of  what  was  then  the  far  West. 


6 


INTRODUCTION. 


Washington  AUston,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend, 
writes  of  him,  — 

"  In  most  cases  we  should  regard  as  a  misfor- 
tune the  want  of  early  education,  which  was  de- 
nied Mr.  Harding's  youth,  but  Nature  has  been 
too  liberal  to  him  to  make  any  feel,  however  his 
own  modesty  may  cause  him  to  regret,  the  need 
of  it,  for  in  forming  him  she  has  not  only  made 
him  a  painter,  but  a  gentleman ;  and  you  know 
her  too  well  not  to  know  that  she  does  her  work 
far  better  than  any  Schools."  ^ 

His  appearance  in  Boston,  sixty  years  ago, 
was  greeted  with  enthusiasm,  and  for  the 
moment  he  was  the  paramount  object  of  in- 
terest. It  showed  the  quality  of  the  man 
that  the  flattering  attentions  which  he  re- 
ceived did  not  in  the  least  bias  his  judgment 
of  his  own  worth,  nor  create  a  ripple  of  van- 
ity in  his  breast. 

He  was  an  incessant  worker.  The  needs 
of  his  large  family  gave  him  but  small  op- 
portunity for  leisure.  He  so  deeply  felt  the 
deficiencies  of  his  own  mental  training  that 
he  was  eager  to  give  to  his  children  all  the 
educational  advantages  that  money  could 
procure,  and  they  were  sent  to  the  best 
schools  of  the  period.    To  secure  the  funds 

1  From  Lippincotfs  Magazine,  January,  1874,  Chester 
Harding,  the  self-made  Artist,' '  by  Osmond  Tiffany. 


INTRODUCTION.  '  7 

necessary  to  meet  these  expenses  required 
constant  care  and  forethought,  and  obliged 
him  to  go  from  city  to  city  to  find  the  sup- 
ply of  sitters,  which  too  long  a  stay  in  one 
place  was  sure  to  exhaust.  This  made  his 
life  a  roving  one,  and  kept  him  much  from 
home.  He  was  singularly  fortunate,  how- 
ever, in  his  wife.  Her  uncommon  powers 
of  judgment,  and  her  thoroughly  well-bal- 
anced nature,  made  her  an  admirable  coun- 
terpoise to  his  more  impulsive  tempera- 
ment. His  frequent  and  prolonged  absences 
from  his  home  threw  the  chief  care  and  re- 
sponsibility of  bringing  up  their  ten  chil- 
dren upon  her.  Towards  the  close  of  her 
life  she  writes,  "To-morrow  I  shall  have 
been  married  twenty -four  years,  and  my 
husband  has  not  been  at  home  for  more 
than  ten  years  of  that  time.  The  longest 
stay  he  has  ever  made  without  going  away 
at  all  is  one  year."  She  relieved  her  hus- 
band of  most  of  the  cares  which  commonly 
devolve  upon  the  father  of  a  family,  and 
left  him  free  to  come  and  go  as  he  thought 
be^t.  After  her  unlooked-for  and  untimely 
death,  at  fifty,  Wm.  B.  O.  Peabody,  D.  D., 
characterized  her  as  "  wise,  disinterested, 
true-hearted,  of  few  words  but  strong  affec- 
tions, —  feeling  that  her  many  cares  within 


8 


INTBOnUCTION. 


the  domestic  circle  did  not  allow  her  to 
wander  often  or  far  beyond  it,  and  yet  al- 
ways earnest  to  do  what  she  was  able  in  the 
cause  of  humanity." 

Her  friend,  Mrs.  A.  J.  Lyman,  of  North- 
ampton, thus  speaks  of  her  in  a  letter  to  her 
sister :  —  ^ 

"  You  have  heard  of  the  sudden  death  of  Mrs. 
Harding  ?  There  has  always  been  something 
about  her  that  I  have  felt  a  great  respect  for ; 
a  quiet  consistency  in  goodness,  a  common-sense 
purpose  that  attained  its  end,  a  cultivated  per- 
ception of  moral  sentiment,  as  well  as  the  beauti- 
ful in  nature.  And  everything  about  her  so  un- 
pretending and  sincere  that  one  could  not  know 
her  well  and  withhold  their  respect.  Contemplat- 
ing her  character  strengthens  my  confidence  in 
the  goodness  of  human  nature.  It  gives  me 
faith  in  virtue,  and  makes  me  feel  that  it  is  a 
reality." 

The  death  of  such  a  woman  was  an  irrep- 
arable loss  to  her  husband  and  family. 

Could  a  complete  list  of  Mr.  Harding's 
works  be  given,  it  would  be  a  worthy  monu- 
ment to  his  industry.  He  worked  rapidly, 
and  his  fine  physical .  organization  helped 
him  to  bear  the  strain  of  incessant  applica- 

^  Recollections  of  my  Mother,  by  Susan  I.  Lesley,  p. 
391. 


INTRODUCTION, 


9 


tion  to  his  brush.  He  was  rarely  ilL  He 
had  occasional  attacks  of  dyspepsia  as  well 
as  painter's  colic,  but  a  few  days  or  weeks 
of  trout-fishing,  for  which  he  had  a  pas- 
sion, or  of  hunting,  would  bring  him  right 
again. 

Owing  to  his  roving  habits  his  portraits 
are  scattered  all  over  the  Union,  as  well  as 
through  England  and  Scotland,  which  makes 
it  impossible  to  get  anything  like  a  complete 
list  of  them*  It  is  safe  to  say,  however, 
that  there  are  few  of  the  eminent  men  of 
the  United  States  who  lived  during  the  first 
thirty  years  of  Mr,  Harding's  career  whom 
he  did  not  put  on  canvas.  His  likenesses,  es- 
pecially of  men,  were  true  and  life-like«  In 
a  biographical  notice  of  him  in  the  "  Atlantic 
Monthly  "  for  April,  1867,  Samuel  Bowles 
says  of  them :  — 

"A  characteristic  of  his  portraits  was  their 
suggestiveness.  They  seem  to  give  us,  not  only 
the  prominent  expression  of  the  countenance  at 
the  moment,  but  the  possibilities  of  its  expres- 
sion in  other  moods.  Hints  of  temperament  and 
of  chai^cter  lurk  in  the  fine  lines  which  nature 
draws  upon  the  living  face  ;  the  more  observable 
features  really  have  but  little  part  in  the  chang- 
ing play  of  the  countenance.  And  in  Harding's 
portraits  the  chief  excellence  is  their  thorough 


10 


INTRODUCTION. 


comprehension  of  the  subject,  their  representa- 
tion of  the  man,  and  not  simply  of  the  conforma- 
tion of  his  features  at  a  particular  period." 

Among  the  many  testimonials  which  the 
fidelity  of  his  likenesses  was  constantly  receiv- 
ing, none  pleased  Mr.  Harding  so  much  as 
the  following :  — 

A  lady  had  recently  died,  and  her  pet  cat 
had  been  wandering  dejectedly  about  the 
house,  evidently  in  search  of  something 
which  she  missed.  At  last  she  entered  a 
room,  where  a  likeness  (by  Harding)  of  her 
late  mistress  was  standing  on  a  sofa.  The 
creature  at  once  gave  a  bound,  and  tried  to 
settle  herself  in  her  accustomed  place  on  the 
old  lady's  lap. 

Mr,  Harding's  personal  appearance  was 
very  striking.  A  friend  says  of  him,  ^'  He 
was  the  finest  specimen  of  manly  beauty  I 
ever  saw.'^  In  stature  he  was  far  above  the 
average,  measuring  six  feet  three  in  his 
stockings;  while  his  frame  was  so  finely 
proportioned  that  his  height  was  not  fully 
appreciated  until  compared  with  that  of  an 
average-sized  man.  His  muscular  power 
was  prodigious ;  and  one  of  his  brothers 
relates  that,  when  he  was  eighteen  years 
old,  his  feats  of  strength  were  the  wonder 


INTRODUCTION. 


11 


of  the  neighborhood.  While  he  was  help- 
ing his  father  to  clear  up  the  land,  after 
moving  to  western  New  York,  he  with  the 
help  of  a  friend,  also  of  great  size  and 
strength,  would  themselves  drag  away  and 
pile  up  the  fallen  timber,  instead  of  resort- 
ing to  the  use  of  oxen,  as  their  fellow-work- 
men were  accustomed  to  do.  In  chopping 
wood,  these  two  could  each  chop,  split,  and 
pile  four  cords  of  wood  a  day,  which  was 
just  double  the  amount  of  an  ordinary  day's 
work. 

His  hands  and  feet  were  so  large  that  he 
was  obliged  to  import  his  gloves,  and  to 
have  his  lasts  made  for  him.  The  width 
between  his  eyes  was  such  that  an  ordinary 
pair  of  spectacles  would  but  half  cover  them. 
His  uncommon  size  sometimes  brought  him 
into  comically  inco'nvenient  situations.  He 
used  to  tell  with  great  glee,  how,  in  warm 
weather,  he  would  draw  his  short  bedstead 
up  to  the  window,  in  some  out-of-the-way 
country  tavern,  and  have  the  comfort  of 
stretching  himself  at  full  length,  by  resting 
his  feetxon  the  window-sill.  Once,  in  mak- 
ing a  journey  on  a  canal-boat,  he  found  that 
he  had  not  room  to  turn  over  in  his  berth  ; 
but  as  he  was  sadly  cramped  by  lying  on 
one  side  so  long,  he  had  to  find  relief,  which 


12 


INTRODUCTION', 


he  did  by  squeezing  himself  side-ways  be- 
tween the  berths  and  the  table  which  ex- 
tended down  the  cabin,  until  he  reached  the 
small  vestibule  on  the  outside  of  the  boat. 
Here  he  had  room  to  turn  around,  and  when 
he  reached  his  narrow  bed  again,  he,  of 
course,  was  able  to  get  into  it  on  his  other 
side  and  to  spend  the  remainder  of  the  night 
in  comparative  comfort.  During  the  later 
years  of  his  life  he  wore  a  full  beard,  which 
as  .well  as  his  hair  was  almost  white,  giv- 
ing him  a  patriarchal  appearance.  A  few 
months  before  his  death,  he  sat  to  an  artist 
as  a  model  for  the  head  of  St.  Peter. 

There  was  in  his  manner,  particularly  to 
young  people,  a  heartiness  and  kindliness 
which  universally  attracted  them  to  him ; 
and  he  possessed  an  intuitive  perception  of 
other  people's  tastes  and  'feelings  which  pre- 
vented his  saying  or  doing  anything  that 
would  be  disagreeable  to  them.  He  was 
full  of  humor,  and  had  a  thorough  apprecia- 
tion of  wit  in  others. 

This  quality  often  stood  him  in  stead  of 
any  more  serious  way  of  criticising  the 
faults  of  his  family.  One  of  his  sons,  whose 
usual  demeanor  was  so  staid  that  he  was 
nicknamed  the  Deacon,  had  been  sent  from 
college  to  spend  a  few  weeks  in  the  bosom 


INTRODUCTION. 


13 


of  his  family,  for  blowing  tin  horns  on  the 
night  of  April  first;.  The  ludicrousness  of 
the  whole  proceeding  entertained  the  young 
man's  father  greatly,  and  no  other  notice 
was  ever  taken  of  the  misdemeanor  than  a 
reference  to  him,  when  a  question  about  any 
literary  matter  came  up  in  the  family,  say- 
ing, "  There  is  my  son  who  has  just  gradu- 
ated with  college  honors :  ask  him,  he  can 
undoubtedly  tell  us." 

He  had  a  unique  way  of  expressing  his 
hearer's  quickness  to  appreciate  his  jokes, 
by  a  series  of  telegraphic  signs  made  to  one 
of  his  children.  If  his  hearer  was  slow  of 
comprehension  he  formed  an  obtuse  angle 
with  his  fingers  ;  if  the  reverse,  an  acute  one, 
and  no  one  but  the  favored  child  had  any 
idea  of  his  opinion  having  been  given. 

He  had  a  quick,  impulsive  nature  ;  and, 
after  once  coming  to  a  decision  about  any 
course  of  action,  was  very  eager  to  carry  out 
his  plans.  His  wife  was  fond  of  giving  an 
account  of  their  wedding,  as  an  illustration 
of  this  trait. 

The  wedding-day  had  been  fixed  for  Feb- 
ruary 15,  1^5,  and  on  the  preceding  day 
the  bride  was  making  her  last  preparations 
for  the  great  event.  The  guests  had  been 
invited :  the  wedding-cake  was  in  the  oven ; 


14 


INTRODUCTION. 


and  her  brother  had  been  dispatched  to  a 
neighboring  town  for  the  white  kid  gloves 
and  sash.  Presently  the  bridegroom-elect 
drove  up  to  the  door  in  a  sleigh,  and,  after 
the  first  salutations  had  passed,  announced 
that  he  had  come  to  be  married  on  that  day ; 
for  the  snow  was  melting  so  fast  that,  if 
they  waited  twenty-four  hours,  they  could 
not  get  back  to  Caledonia.  So  they  were 
married  the  day  beforehand.  "  And,"  his 
wife  was  accustomed  to  say,  "it  has  been 
the  day  beforehand  ever  since." 

He  was  a  good  son  and  brother ;  and,  as 
soon  as  his  own  circumstances  warranted  it, 
he  not  only  extended  pecuniary  aid  to  his 
father  and  mother,  but  interested  himself  in 
the  education  of  those  members  of  the  family 
younger  than  himself,  whom  he  endeavored 
to  incite  to  a  desire  for  intellectual  improve- 
ment, and  which  he  gave  them  opportunities 
to  attain. 

He  had  a  sunny  temper,  which,  combined 
with  his  confidence  in  his  own  power  of  over- 
coming obstacles,  made  him  meet  the  little 
irritations  of  life  either  with  a  laugh  and 
jest,  or  at  most  with  a  quick,  impatient 
"  Pshaw  !  "  which  seemed  to  be  all  the  out- 
let his  disturbed  feelings  needed.  He  had 
quick  inventive  powers,  and  the  mechanical 


INTRODUCTION. 


15 


skill  to  carry  out  his  ideas  :  so  that  he  never 
seemed  at  fault  in  any  emergency,  but  al- 
ways had  some  way  of  getting  out  of  every 
difficulty ;  which,  combined  with  his  uncom- 
mon strength,  gave  those  who  were  depend- 
ent upon  him  an  unusual  feeling  of  reliance 
and  trust. 

His  love  for  music  amounted  to  a  passion  ; 
and  his  correctness  of  ear  was  such  that  he 
became  an  accomplished  performer  on  the 
clarionet,  without  knowing  how  to  read  a 
note  of  music.  Any  air  that  he  could  sing 
he  could  play  at  once  upon  the  piano,  with- 
out striking  a  false  note  ;  and  he  whistled 
finely. 

His  love  of  nature  was  very  noticeable ; 
and  he  seemed  to  possess  peculiar  power 
over  her,  by  which  he  could  make  her  subser- 
vient to  his  wishes.  Every  living  thing  that 
his  hands  touched  was  sure  to  flourish  ;  and 
it  used  to  be  a  saying  in  the  family  that,  if 
"  father  were  to  plant  a  brick,  it  would  come 
up  a  tree."  When  he  was  preparing  to 
build  his  house  on  Chestnut  Street,  in  Spring- 
field, he  wished  to  make  an  artificial  pond 
on  his  grounds.  To  do  this,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  move  some  well-grown  trees,  with 
trunks  as  large  as  a  man's  leg.  It  was  in 
the  month  of  August,  when,  of  course,  they 


16 


INTEODUCTION. 


were  in  full  leaf.  He  had  them  carried  some 
feet,  reset  them  ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  proph- 
ecies to  the  contrary  of  all  his  neighbors, 
they  not  only  lived,  but  were  uninjured  by 
their  little  midsummer  excursion. 

Landscape  gardening  was  his  delight,  and 
perhaps  he  did  more  to  give  an  impulse  to 
the  taste  which  is  now  so  conspicuous  in  the 
well  -  arranged  and  beautifully  adorned 
grounds  about  the  dwelling-houses  in 
Springfield  than  any  other  one  person.  He 
was  closely  associated  with  the  late  W.  B. 
O.  Peabody,  D.  D.,  in  laying  out  the  grounds 
of  the  beautiful  Springfield  Cemetery ;  and 
the  arrangement  of  the  water-works  was 
entirely  his  own.  He  spent  days  there, 
directing  the  workmen,  and  often  using  the 
spade  himself.  The  pines  that  stand  at  the 
entrance,  now  grown  into  large  trees,  were 
set  with  his  own  hands. 

In  the  following  pages,  Mr.  Harding  tells 
his  own  story.  The  narrative  was  prepared 
for  his  children,  and,  immediately  after  his 
death,  was  printed  by  them  and  privately 
circulated  among  his  many  friends.  It  was 
very  warmly  received,  and  the  notices  of  it 
in  private  letters  or  in  the  public  prints  were 
numerous  and  eulogistic.  To  this  have  been 
added  extracts  from  letters  which  came  into 


INTRODUCTION,  17 

the  editor's  possession  after  "  My  Egotistog- 
raphy  "  ^  was  printed. 

The  story  of  a  life  of  such  perseverance 
under  difficulties,  such  unflagging  industry, 
such  devotion  to  a  worthy  aim,  and  a  pic- 
ture of  such  simplicity  and  poise  of  char- 
acter, cannot  but  be  helpful  to  the  young 
who,  like  him,  have  their  own  fortunes  to 
make  in  the  world.  If  it  shall  help  one 
such  to  a  faithful  use  of  the  talents  given 
him,  looking  only  to  the  attainment  of  his 
best  ideal  for  his  reward,  this  story  will  not 
have  been  written  in  vain. 

^  This  was  the  name  Mr.  Harding  playfully  gave  to  the 
autobiographical  sketch,  which  he  felt  was  too  slight  to 
pretend  to  any  more  assuming  title. 


A  SKETCH  OF  CHESTER  HARD- 
ING, ARTIST. 


PREFACE  TO  "MY  EGOTISTOGRAPHY.'' 

I  HAVE  often  been  importuned  by  my  children 
and  numerous  friends  to  write  a  history  of  my  life, 
which,  perhaps,  has  been  more  varied  and  eventful 
than  common.  This  I  have  endeavored  to  do  ;  and, 
if  the  perusal  of  this  imperfect  sketch  shall  give 
them  pleasure,  I  shall  be  amply  repaid  for  the  labor 
the  work  has  cost  me. 

I  trust  that  some  of  my  young  readers  may  find 
encouragement  in  the  difficulties  I  have  overcome, 
and  the  success  which  has  followed  my  perseverance. 

Chester  Harding. 

Springfield,  June^  1865. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Of  my  ancestors  I  know  nothing  beyond 
my  grandparents.  My  paternal  grand- 
father was  a  substantial  farmer  in  Deerfield, 
Mass.  He  lived  in  a  two*story  house,  which 
to  my  youthful  imagination  was  a  palace  ; 
filled  many  offices  of  profit  and  trust,  in  the 


20 


CHESTER  HAULING. 


town,  lived  to  a  good  old  age,  and  was 
gathered  to  his  fathers  with  the  universal 
respect  of  his  neighbors. 

On  the  maternal  side,  I  can  go  no  farther 
back.  My  grandfather  Smith  was  a  farmer, 
who  lived  to  a  ripe  old  age,  and  died  much 
respected.  For  many  years  he  held  the 
office  of  deacon  in  the  town  of  Whately, 
where  he  resided.  I  was  born  in  the  ad- 
joining town  of  Conway,  on  the  1st  of  Sep- 
tember, 1792. 

My  parents  were  poor ;  and,  of  course,  I 
was  brought  up  like  all  other  poor  children 
of  that  period.  My  first  recollection  is  of  our 
moving  from  Conway  to  Hatfield.  I  well 
remember  the  brook  that  ran  close  by  the 
house  we  lived  in  there,  and  the  amusement 
I  had  in  catching  the  little  fishes  with  a  pin- 
hook.  As  I  grew  older,  I  began  to  fish  with 
a  real  hook,  and  to  catch  trout.  Like  most 
boys  of  my  age,  I  thought  more  of  "  going 
a-fishing "  than  of  all  other  indulgences. 
Indeed  it  amounted  almost  to  a  passion  with 
me.  I  would  go  miles  on  an  errand,  or  do 
any  amount  of  service,  for  a  penny  or 
two,  that  I  might  be  able  to  buy  my  fish- 
hooks. 

From  the  age  of  eight  to  ten,  I  lived  in 
Bernardston,  with  an  aunt.    Here  again  I 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


21 


had  a  brook  that  constantly  enticed  me  from 
my  daily  duties,  which  consisted  chiefly  of 
the  care  of  a  flock  of  young  geese.  I  played 
truant  nearly  every  day,  and  as  often  was 
whipped  by  my  aunt.  I  returned  home  at 
the  end  of  two  years.  We  were  very  poor, 
and  were  often  in  need  of  the  necessaries  of 
life.  My  father  was  a  good  man,  of  unex- 
ceptionable habits  ;  but  he  was  not  thrifty, 
and  did  little  towards  the  support  of  the 
family.  He  had  a  great  inventive  genius, 
and  turned  all  his  powers  towards  the  dis- 
covery of  perpetual  motion.  At  the  time  of 
his  death  his  attic  was  full  of  machines,  the 
making  of  which  had  occupied  a  large  part 
of  his  life.  But  this  brought  no  bread  and 
butter  to  his  hungry  children. 

One  hard  winter  he  went  to  Northfield, 
Mass.,  to  get  work,  where  my  mother  sup- 
posed he  was  earning  something  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  family.  While  there, 
he  had  the  small-pox ;  and  all  the  work  he 
did  was  to  make  the  body  of  a  very  large 
bass-viol.  Imagine  the  disappointment  of 
his  family  when  they  found  that  this  monster 
skeleton  was  all  he  had  brought  home  to 
them ! 

My  mother  was  a  noble  woman.  In  all 
the  trials  of  poverty,  she  managed  to  keep 


22 


CHESTER  HABDING. 


her  children  decently  dressed,  that  they 
might  go  to  meeting  on  Sunday,  and  make 
a  respectable  appearance  among  other  boys. 
It  is  true  our  more  prosperous  cousins  rather 
turned  up  their  noses  at  us  now  and  then, 
much  to  our  mortification. 

At  the  age  of  twelve,  1  was  hired  out  at 
six  dollars  a  month  to  a  Mr.  Graves,  in 
Hatfield.  He  was  a  good  and  religious  man. 
I  lived  with  him  two  years.  I  went  to  school 
in  the  winter,  and  learned  enough  to  read 
the  Bible.  I  partook  largely  of  the  reli- 
gious sentiment  that  pervaded  the  family.  I 
said  my  j)rayers  night  and  morning,  and  was 
deemed  a  model  boy.  At  the  age  of  four- 
teen, my  father  moved  to  the  western  part 
of  New  York  State,  into  Madison  County, 
then  an  unbroken  wilderness.  Now  began 
my  hard  work  and  harder  fare.  Our  first 
business  was  to  build  a  log-house,  and  to 
clear  a  patch  of  ground,  and  fit  it  for  seed. 
I  had  two  brothers  older  than  myself,  the 
oldest  of  whom  was  a  chair-maker  by  trade, 
and  made  common  flag-bottomed  chairs  for 
the  neighbors.  By  this  means  we  could  get 
an  occasional  piece  of  pork,  some  flour  and 
potatoes ;  whilst  my  father  and  his  other 
boys  wielded  the  axe,  —  that  great  civilizer. 

We  finished  the  house,  and  in  the  spring 


CHESTER  HARDING,  23 


we  had  a  few  acres  felled  and  ready  for 
burning.  We  planted  corn  and  potatoes 
amongst  the  blackened  stumps;  fortunately, 
the  crop  needed  no  labor  beyond  that  of 
planting.  Before  the  season  was  far  spent, 
we  were  all  down  with  chills  and  fever.  We 
managed  somehow  to  live  through  that  year, 
which  was  the  hardest  we  had  ever  seen.  I 
grew  strong,  and  was  distinguished  for  my 
skill  in  using  the  axe.  I  could  lift  a  larger 
log  than  any  one  else,  and,  in  short,  at  eigh- 
teen was  considered  a  prodigy  of  strength. 
Our  means  for  intellectual  development  were 
very  scant.  Our  parents  would  sometimes 
read  the  Bible  to  us,  the  only  book  we  had 
in  the  house ;  and  occasionally  we  were 
blessed  with  a  visit  from  some  itinerant 
preacher,  when  the  whole  forest  settlement 
would  meet  in  some  large  building,  either 
the  school-house  or  a  barn,  and  listen  to  his 
divine  teachings.  At  nineteen  I  changed 
my  mode  of  life.  I  began  to  think  there 
might  be  an  easier  way  of  getting  a  living 
than  by  cutting  down  and  clearing  up  the 
heavily  timbered  forest,  and  worked  one 
winter  with  my  brother  at  turning  stuff  for 
chairs. 

About  this  time  war  was  declared  be- 
tween the  United  States  and  Great  Britain. 


24 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


A  military  spirit  was  aroused  thronglioiit 
the  whole  of  western  New  York,  and  I  im- 
bibed as  much  of  it  as  any  one.  I  had  be- 
come a  distinguished  drummer,  and  had 
drummed  for  pay,  until  I  was  obliged  to  do 
military  duty.  My  brother,  next  younger 
than  myself,  was  one  of  the  first  to  enlist  in 
the  service  for  one  year.  The  troops  were 
soon  called  to  active  service  at  Oswego. 
After  six  months  he  was  anxious  to  return 
home.  I  offered  myself,  and  was  accepted 
as  a  substitute.  As  he  was  a  drummer,  I 
could  easily  fill  his  place. 

Nothing  of  importance  broke  in  upon  the 
monotony  of  camp-life  until  mid-winter, 
when  we  were  ordered  to  prepare  three  days' 
provisions,  and  to  march  next  morning  for 
Sacket's  Harbor.  The  snow  was  very  deep, 
and  the  weather  cold  ;  yet  the  days  of  our 
march  were  holidays,  when  compared  to 
camp-life.  We  committed  many  depreda- 
tions on  our  way,  such  as  stealing  chickens, 
or,  on  rare  occasions,  a  pig.  I  was  on  the 
rear  section  of  the  column  one  day,  and  with 
another  soldier  had  fallen  so  far  behind  that 
we  had  lost  sight  of  the  troops.  Being  un- 
certain which  of  two  roads  to  take,  we  ap- 
plied at  a  house  which  was  near,  for  direc- 
tions. "  Oh  !  "  said  the  woman,  "  you  have 
only  to  follow  the  feathers." 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


25 


Sacket's  Harbor  was  threatened  with  an 
attack  by  the  British.  They  had  a  consid- 
erable force  in  Canada,  nearly  opposite  ;  and 
the  lake  at  that  point  was  completely  frozen 
over.  We  were  constantly  drilled,  and  kept 
in  readiness  for  an  attack.  We  had  several 
alarms,  and  were  often  drummed  out  at  mid- 
night to  face  the  foe ;  but  he  was  only  found 
in  the  imagination  of  the  frightened  senti- 
nel. 

Sickness  now  began  to  thin  our  ranks. 
Every  hour  in  the  day  some  poor  fellow 
would  be  followed  to  Briarfield ;  and  the 
tune,  "Away  goes  the  merryman  home  to 
his  grave,"  played  on  returning  from  the 
burial,  was  too  often  heard  to  leave  the 
listeners  indifferent  to  its  notes.  My  turn 
came  at  last,  and  I  was  taken  down  with  the 
prevailing  disease,  dysentery ;  but  my  lieu- 
tenant took  me  to  his  own  quarters,  instead 
of  sending  me  to  the  hospital.  He  was  my 
neighbor,  and  in  this  instance  proved  him- 
self to  be  one  in  the  Scripture  sense.  Had  I 
gone  to  the  hospital  I  should  probably  have 
shared  the  fate  of  nearly  all  who  went  there, 
and  have  been  carried  to  Briarfield.  As 
soon  as  I  recovered  sufficient  strength  to 
get  home,  I  was  discharged,  as  my  time  of 
service  was  nearly  up. 


26  CHESTER  HAEBING. 


I  suffered  intensely  on  my  way  home.  I 
was  thinly  clad,  without  overcoat  or  gloves. 
I  started  from  camp  with  a  lad  who  was 
taking  back  a  horse  that  an  officer  had  rid- 
den to  Sacket's  Harbor:  he  was  warmly 
clothed  and  of  a  very  robust  make.  We 
traveled  on,  until  I  began  to  feel  a  good 
deal  fatigued.  We  at  last  came  to  a  house 
where  we  had  been  told  we  could  find  ac- 
commodation. We  arrived  there  just  at 
dusk,  and,  to  our  dismay,  were  told  by 
the  master  of  the  house,  that  he  could  not 
keep  us,  and  that  he  had  nothing  on  hand 
for  either  man  or  beast  to  eat.  It  was  six 
miles  to  the  next  house  and  the  road  lay  on 
the  beach  of  the  lake,  exposed  to  the  pier- 
cing winds  which  blew  over  it.  We  started 
off,  I  on  foot  as  before,  while  the  boy  was 
mounted.  I  had  to  run  to  keep  warm.  At 
length  we  came  in  sight  of  a  light ;  but  what 
was  our  dismay  to  find  an  open  river  be- 
tween us  and  it !  I  shouted  to  the  utmost 
capacity  of  my  lungs,  but  could  get  no  re- 
sponse. What  was  to  be  done  ?  Nothing, 
but  to  return  to  the  shelter  we  had  left  an 
hour  and  a  half  before.  I  started  back  at 
the  same  speed  I  came ;  but,  before  we 
had  gone  half  the  distance,  my  strength 
gave  out,  leaving  me  no  other  alternative 


CHESTER  HARDING.  27 


but  to  mount  the  horse  with  the  boy.  I 
soon  found  myself  getting  very  cold,  and  a 
strong  desire  to  go  to  sleep  came  over  me. 
I  looked  at  the  thick  clumps  of  evergreen 
that  stood  by  our  path,  and  thought  seriously 
of  lying  down  under  one  of  them  to  wait 
until  daylight.  The  boy  was  crying,  and 
begged  me  to  keep  on,  saying,  "  If  you  lie 
down  there,  you  will  freeze  to  death,"  which 
would  indeed  have  been  inevitable.  I  yielded 
to  his  entreaties,  and  we  finally  reached  the 
house  we  had  left  three  hours  before.  The 
boy  was  not  much  frozen,  but  I  was  badly 
bitten.  My  face,  hands,  and  thighs  were 
stiff.  After  a  good  deal  of  rapping  and 
hallooing,  the  door  was  opened.  The  man 
of  the  house  had  been  used  to  such  scenes, 
and  knew  well  what  to  do.  He  put  my  feet 
iuto  cold  water,  at  the  same  time  making 
applications  to  my  face,  ears,  and  legs. 
Mortal  never  suffered  more  acute  pain  than 
I  did  through  that  sleepless  night.  I  ex- 
perienced the  truth  of  our  host's  statement 
with  regard  to  provisions.  The  next  day  at 
noon,  we  started  again  on  our  perilous  jour- 
ney, having  been  assured  that  we  were  mis- 
taken about  the  river  being  open.  Travel- 
ing more  leisurely  than  we  had  done  the 
previous  night,  we  reached  the  river  again ; 


28  CHESTER  HARDING. 


and,  owing  to  the  intense  cold,  it  was  cov- 
ered with  a  thin  coat  of  ice,  but  not  thick 
enough  to  bear  a  man  in  an  upright  posi- 
tion. I  got  a  long  pole,  and,  by  putting 
myself  in  a  swimming  posture,  reached  the 
opposite  shore  in  safety,  though  it  was 
frightful  to  feel  the  ice,  not  much  thicker 
than  a  pane  of  window-glass,  bending  under 
me.  At  the  house  I  was  told  that  the  cross- 
ing was  half  a  mile  back.  I  recrossed  the 
river;  and,  retracing  our  steps  a  mile,  we 
found  a  blind  road  leading  over  the  bluff, 
which  soon  took  us  in  safety  to  a  comfort- 
able house,  where  we  found  enough  to  eat 
for  ourselves  and  our  horse.  The  next  day  I 
started  for  my  home,  where  my  sufferings 
were  soon  forgotten.  I  speedily  recovered, 
and  went  to  work  with  my  brother.  We 
had  a  contract  for  drum-making  from  the 
United  States,  which  gave  us  employment 
all  the  following  summer. 

Early  in  the  fall  of  this  year  I  embarked 
in  a  new  business.  A  mechanic  had  in- 
vented and  patented  a  spinning-head,  which 
was  thought  to  be  a  great  improvement  upon 
the  old  plan.  I  accepted  an  offer  he  made 
me  to  sell  the  patent  in  the  State  of  Con- 
necticut. The  only  thing  in  the  way  of  my 
making  a  fortune  was  the  want  of  capital. 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


29 


However,  "  Where  there 's  a  will,  there 's  a 
way."  I  soon  contrived  to  get  a  horse  and 
wagon,  and  five  or  six  dollars  in  money,  be- 
sides a  quantity  of  essences,  such  as  pepper- 
mint, tansy,  wintergreen,  etc.  With  this 
fit-out  I  launched  forth  into  the  wide  world 
in  pursuit  of  fortune.  There  is  no  period 
in  the  history  of  a  young  man  which  awak- 
ens so  many  of  the  finer  feelings  of  his  na- 
ture as  that  when  he  leaves  his  home,  and 
for  the  first  time  assumes  the  position  and 
responsibility  of  an  independent  man.  All 
the  joyful  recollections  of  that  home  he  is 
about  to  leave,  no  matter  how  humble  it  is, 
rush  with  overwhelming  force  upon  his  sus- 
ceptible heart.  I  started  with  all  the  firm- 
ness and  resolution  I  could  call  to  my  aid  ; 
yet  if  my  mother  could  have  looked  into  my 
eyes,  she  would  have  seen  them  filled  with 
big  tears.  I  jumped  into  my  wagon,  whipped 
up  my  horse,  and  was  soon  out  of  sight  of 
what,  at  that  moment,  seemed  all  the  world 
to  me. 

I  managed,  in  view  of  my  small  stock  of 
money,  to  get  along  without  drawing  largely 
upon  it.  I  often  bartered  my  essences  for 
a  night's  entertainment,  and  was  going  on 
swimmingly,  until  I  came  to  a  small  town 
on  the  banks  of  the  Mohawk.    I  stopped  to 


30  CHESTER  HARDING. 


bait  my  horse ;  and,  as  I  was  about  to  start, 
a  man  with  a  bundle  of  clothing  in  his  hand 
wanted  to  get  a  ride  as  far  as  the  next  town, 
for  which  he  would  give  me  twenty -five 
cents.  I,  of  course,  was  glad  to  avail  my- 
self of  his  offer.  We  had  traveled  perhaps 
a  mile,  when  we  overtook  two  men  by  the 
roadside,  in  violent  dispute  about  a  pack 
of  cards.  One  was  very  drunk.  My  new 
friend  proposed  that  we  should  stop  and 
inquire  into  the  rights  of  the  case:  so  I 
pulled  up.  The  drunken  man  was  contend- 
ing that  he  had  won  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  of 
the  other ;  whereupon  he  proceeded  to  show 
us  how  it  was  done.  He  had  bet  that  the 
top  card  was  the  jack  of  clubs,  and  was  will- 
ing to  bet  again  that  the  top  card  was  the 
jack  of  clubs ;  at  the  same  time  showing,  as 
if  by  accident,  that  it  was  on  the  bottom  of 
the  pack.  My  friend  bet  him  a  quarter 
that  it  was  not  on  the  top,  and  won.  He 
fixed  his  cards  again  very  clumsily,  as  he 
was  very  drunk.  I  bet,  and  won.  I  bet  a 
half  next  time ;  so  did  my  friend :  we  lost. 
We  now  accused  him  of  having  two  jacks  in 
the  pack,  and  my  friend  examined  the  pack, 
but  found  only  one  ;  and  that  he  managed 
to  drop  into  the  bottom  of  the  wagon,  and 
covered  it  with  his  foot.    The  cards  were 


CHESTER  HARDING,  31 


again  shuffled.  We  had  no  scruples  about 
betting  on  a  certainty,  as  it  was  to  get  our 
money  back,  so  we  each  bet  a  dollar,  but 
lost.  In  some  mysterious  manner  the  card 
had  been  taken  from  under  the  foot.  There 
was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  bear  this  loss 
as  well  as  I  could ;  and  we  started  on,  very 
sad.  My  companion  had  lost  every  cent  he 
had  in  the  world.  He  had  a  loaded  whip, 
worth  two  or  three  dollars,  that  he  urged 
me  to  buy.  In  pity  for  the  poor  fellow  I 
gave  him  his  price,  when  he  suddenly  rec- 
ollected that  he  had  left  something  at  the 
tavern,  and  must  go  back.  He  soon  over- 
took the  two  worthies  we  had  just  left,  and 
all  three  joined  in  a  hearty  laugh.  My  eyes 
were  instantly  opened.  I  clenched  my  new 
whip,  determined  to  go  back  and  thrash  the 
scoundrels ;  but  as  they  were  three  to  one, 
I  finally  thought  better  of  it.  I  firmly  be- 
lieve that,  if  I  had  gone  back,  I  should  have 
killed  one  of  them  at  least  with  my  loaded 
whip.  I  traveled  on,  not  much  in  love  with 
myself.  I  bore  the  loss  of  the  money  better 
than  I  did  the  way  in  which  it  was  lost. 
This  lesson  has  never  been  forgotten.  I 
finally  reached  Connecticut,  the  field  of  my 
future  operations.  I  returned  with  more 
money  than  I  started  with,  and  had  a  sur- 


32 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


plus  of  fifty  or  sixty  wooden  clocks  and  sev- 
eral watches,  which  I  had  taken  for  the  pat- 
ent in  different  parts  of  the  State. 

Near  the  close  of  the  war,  my  brother 
(younger  than  myself)  and  I  went  into  the 
cabinet  and  chair  manufactory  in  Cale- 
donia, a  small  town  in  Livingstone  County, 
New  York. 

At  this  juncture  I  happened  to  meet  with 
Caroline  Woodruff,  a  lovely  girl  of  twenty, 
with  handsome,  dark  eyes,  fine  brunette 
complexion,  and  of  an  amiable  disposition. 
I  fell  in  love  with  her  at  first  sight.  I  can 
remember  the  dress  she  wore  at  our  first 
meeting  as  well  as  I  do  those  beautiful  eyes. 
It  was  a  dark  crimson,  woolen  dress,  with 
a  neat  little  frill  about  the  neck.  I  saw  but 
little  of  her,  for  the  family  soon  moved  to 
a  distance,  forty  or  fifty  miles.  Though  she 
was  absent,  however,  her  image  was  im- 
planted too  deeply  in  my  heart  to  be  for- 
gotten. It  haunted  me  day  and  night.  At 
length  I  took  the  resolution  to  go  to  see 
her  ;  which  was  at  once  carried  out.  I  set 
out  on  foot,  found  her,  and  proposed,  and 
was  bid  to  wait  a  while  for  my  answer.  I 
went  again,  in  the  same  way,  and  this  time 
had  the  happiness  to  be  accepted ;  and,  three 
weeks  after,  she  became  my  wife,  and  ac- 


CHESTER  HABDING.  33 


companied  me  to  my  home.  We  had  hardly 
reached  it  before  I  was  sued  for  a  small 
debt,  which  I  could  not  meet :  in  short,  busi- 
ness was  not  very  flourishing,  and  we  were 
much  embarrassed. 

To  relieve  myself  I  went  into  an  entirely 
new  business,  —  that  of  tavern  -  keeping. 
Here  I  paid  off  some  old  debts  by  making 
new  ones.  Matters,  however,  did  not  im- 
prove :  on  the  contrary,  creditors  grew  more 
clamorous  and  threatening.  Nothing  could 
strike  me  with  more  horror  than  the  thought 
of  being  shut  up  in  Batavia  jail.  At  that 
time  the  barbarous  practice  of  imprison- 
ment for  debt  was  in  full  force.  My  mind 
was  made  up.  On  Saturday  night  I  took 
leave  of  my  wife  and  child,  and  left  for 
the  headwaters  of  the  Alleghany  River.  As 
soon  as  the  river  opened  I  took  passage  on 
a  raft,  and  worked  my  way  down  to  Pitts- 
burgh. Here  I  was  at  a  loss  what  to  do. 
Times  were  hard  ;  and,  besides,  I  was  not  a 
good  enough  mechanic  to  get  employment 
at  the  only  trade  I  knew  anything  of.  I 
finally  got  a  job  at  house-painting ;  but  I 
felt  lonely  and  unhappy.  As  soon  as  I  had 
saved  a  few  dollars  I  started  for  my  wife 
and  child.  I  walked  over  mountains  and 
through  wild  forests,  with  no  guide  but  the 


34  CHESTER  HARDING. 


blazed  trees.  Bears,  wolves,  deer,  and  tur- 
keys I  met  so  often  that  I  would  hardly 
turn  around  to  look  at  them.  At  last  I 
reached  the  settlement  within  a  few  miles  of 
Caledonia.  Here  I  halted  till  night,  think- 
ing it  safer  to  travel  by  moonlight  than  in 
broad  day.  As  it  grew  dark  I  started, 
tired  and  foot-sore.  I  saw  a  horse  grazing 
in  the  road,  and  the  thought  struck  me  that 
he  could  ease  my  weary  limbs.  I  succeeded 
in  catching  and  mounting  him ;  and,  by 
means  of  my  staff  or  walking-stick,  I  steered 
him  to  the  street  of  Caledonia.  I  then 
turned  him  on  his  way  home,  and  bade  him 
good-night.  I  remained  in  close  conceal- 
ment three  or  four  days,  and,  when  all  was 
ready,  started  again  for  the  headwaters  of 
the  Alleghany,  but  not  alone :  this  time  my 
wife  and  child  were  with  me.  We  expe- 
rienced many  hardships  on  our  way,  but 
nothing  of  particular  interest  occurred.  At 
Cleans  Point  we  embarked  upon  a  raft, 
with  a  comfortable  shanty  on  board,  and  in 
a  week  floated  down  the  river  to  Pittsburgh. 
Before  I  had  left  Pittsburgh,  I  had  rented  a 
ten-footer,  with  two  rooms  in  it ;  so  we  went 
directly  there.  All  our  availables  consisted 
of  one  bed,  and  a  chest  of  clothing,  and 
some  cooking  utensils,  so  tliat  we  had  little 
labor  in  getting  settled  down. 


CHESTER  HARDING.  35 


But  now  all  my  money  was  gone,  and  how 
to  get  more  was  the  question.  I  could  find 
no  work  as  a  house-painter,  and  what  to  do 
I  did  not  know.  I  would  walk  about  the 
town,  and  return  to  find  my  wife  in  tears,  — 
though  she  always  had  a  smile  for  me.  I 
went  into  the  market  the  next  morning, 
though  for  what  purpose  I  could  hardly 
tell,  for  I  had  not  one  cent  of  money.  At 
last  I  ventured  to  ask  the  price  of  a  beef- 
steak. I  had  the  impudence  to  say  to  the 
man  that  I  should  like  that  piece  very 
much,  but  that  I  had  no  change  with  me. 
To  my  great  surprise  he  said  I  could  take 
it,  and  pay  for  it  the  next  time  I  came.  As 
I  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Sands, 
a  barber  who  occupied  the  twin  part  of  the 
house  I  was  in,  I  went  to  his  wife,  and  asked 
her  to  loan  me  half  a  loaf  of  bread,  which 
she  did  cheerfully.  If  we  went  hungry  that 
day  it  was  not  because  we  had  not  enough  to 
eat,  and  that,  too,  with  an  honest  appetite. 

There  was  an  opening  just  now  for  a 
sign  painter.  I  had  talked  with  Neighbor 
Sands  upon  the  subject  of  my  becoming  one. 
He  approved  the  plan,  and  was  the  means 
of  my  getting  an  order.  A  Mr.  W.  H. 
Wetherell  wanted  a  sign  painted  in  gold 
letters  on  both  sides,  so  as  to  project  it  into 


36  CHESTER  HARDING. 


the  street.  I  agreed  to  do  it ;  but  where 
was  the  stock  of  gold  paint  and  board  to 
come  from  ?  I  went  into  Neighbor  Sands' 
half  a  dozen  times  for  the  purpose  of  ask- 
ing him  to  lend  me  the  money  to  procure 
the  materials,  and  as  often  my  heart  failed 
me.  At  last  I  made  a  grand  effort,  and 
said,  "  Neighbor  Sands,  I  wish  you  would 
lend  me  twenty  dollars  for  a  few  days,  as 
I  have  no  money  by  me  that  is  current." 
"  Certainly,  with  pleasure."  I  could  hardly 
believe  it  real.  I  took  the  money,  and  hur- 
ried into  my  room,  and  threw  it  into  my 
wife's  lap.  She  was  frightened,  fearing  I  had 
obtained  it  by  some  unlawful  means.  The 
first  use  I  made  of  it  was  to  go  to  the  mar- 
ket, to  pay  the  credulous  butcher;  and  to 
buy  some  vegetables,  tea,  sugar,  and  some 
other  little  luxuries.  I  got  my  sign-board 
made,  bought  my  gold  leaf,  paints,  etc. ; 
went  to  a  printer,  and  got  some  very  large 
impressions  of  the  alphabet ;  and,  having  in 
my  chair-making  experience  learned  the  art 
of  gilding,  I  soon  had  my  sign  finished,  and 
paid  back  my  neighbor  his  money.  He 
never  knew  that  I  was  not  flush  of  money  ; 
but  his  kindness  I  never  forgot.  I  was  at 
once  established  as  a  sign  painter,  and  fol- 
lowed that  trade  for  a  year. 


CHAPTER  11. 


About  this  time  I  fell  in  with  a  portrait 
painter  by  the  name  of  Nelson,  —  one  of  the 
primitive  sort.  He  was  a  sign,  ornamental, 
and  portrait  painter.  He  had  for  his  sign 
a  copy  of  the  "  Infant  Artists  "  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  with  this  inscription,  "  Sign,  Or- 
namental, and  Portrait  Painting  executed 
on  the  shortest  notice,  with  neatness  and 
dispatch."  It  was  in  his  sanctum  that  I 
first  conceived  the  idea  of  painting  heads. 
I  saw  his  portraits,  and  was  enamored  at 
once.  I  got  him  to  paint  me  and  my  wife, 
and  thought  the  pictures  perfection.  He 
would  not  let  me  see  him  paint,  nor  would 
he  give  me  the  least  idea  how  the  thing  was 
done.  I  took  the  pictures  home,  and  pon- 
dered on  them,  and  wondered  how  it  was 
possible  for  a  man  to  produce  such  wonders 
of  art.  At  length  my  admiration  began  to 
yield  to  an  ambition  to  do  the  same  thing. 
I  thought  of  it  by  day,  and  dreamed  of  it 
by  night,  until  I  was  stimulated  to  make  an 
attempt  at  painting  myself.    I  got  a  board ; 


38  CHESTER  HARDING. 


and,  with  such  colors  as  I  had  for  use  in  my 
trade,  I  began  a  portrait  of  my  wife.  I 
made  a  thing  that  looked  like  her.  The 
moment  I  saw  the  likeness  I  became  fran- 
tic with  delight :  it  was  like  the  discovery  of 
a  new  sense ;  I  could  think  of  nothing  else. 
From  that  time  sign  painting  became  odious, 
and  was  much  neglected. 

I  next  painted  a  razeed  portrait  of  an 
Englishman  who  was  a  journeyman  baker, 
for  which  I  received  five  dollars.  He  sent 
it  to  his  mother  in  London.  I  also  painted 
portraits  of  the  man  and  his  wife  with  whom 
I  boarded,  and  for  which  I  received,  on  ac- 
count, twelve  dollars  each.  This  was  in  the 
winter  season :  the  river  was  closed,  and 
there  was  but  little  to  be  done  in  sign  paint- 
ing. 

1  shall  always  remember  the  friendship 
of  an  Irish  apothecary,  who,  at  this  period 
of  my  history,  encouraged  me  in  my  at- 
tempts at  portrait  painting,  and  allowed  me 
to  buy  any  material  I  needed,  on  credit, 
from  his  paint  and  drug  store.  I  had  been 
painting  a  second  picture  of  my  wife,  and 
asked  Nelson  the  painter  to  come  and  see  it. 
He  declared  it  to  be  no  more  like  my  wife 
than  like  him,  and  said  further  that  it  was 
utter  nonsense  for  me  to  try  to  paint  por- 


CHESTER  HABDING.  39 


traits  at  my  time  of  life:  he  had  been  ten 
years  in  learning  the  trade.  To  receive  such 
a  lecture,  and  such  utter  condemnation  of 
my  work,  when  I  expected  encouragement 
and  approval,  was  truly  disheartening.  He 
left  me ;  and  I  was  still  sitting  before  the 
picture,  in  great  dejection,  when  my  friend 
the  doctor  came  in.  He  instantly  exclaimed, 
with  much  apparent  delight,  "  That 's  good  ; 
first-rate,  a  capital  likeness,"  etc.  I  then 
repeated  what  Nelson  had  just  said.  He 
replied  that  it  was  sheer  envy ;  that  he  never 
painted  half  so  good  a  head,  and  never 
would.  The  tide  of  hope  began  to  flow 
again,  and  I  grew  more  and  more  fond  of 
head  painting.  I  now  regarded  sign  paint- 
ing merely  as  a  necessity,  while  my  whole 
soul  was  wrapped  up  in  my  new  love,  and  I 
neglected  my  trade  so  much  that  I  was  kept 
pretty  short  of  money.  I  resorted  to  every 
means  to  eke  out  a  living.  I  sometimes 
played  the  clarionet  for  a  tight-rope  dancer, 
and  on  market-days  would  play  at  the  win- 
dow of  the  museum  to  attract  the  crowd  to 
the  exhibition.  For  each  of  these  perform- 
ances I  would  get  a  dollar. 

I  was  strictly  temperate  in  my  habits,  and 
seldom  spent  a  sixpence  for  anything  that 
we  did  not  actually  need ;  but  I  remember 


40 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


one  occasion  when  my  love  for  music  and 
excitement  got  the  better  of  my  prudence, 
I  had  gone  out  one  evening  to  borrow  a 
dollar  to  go  to  market  with  the  next  morn- 
ing, when,  as  I  was  sauntering  about,  I  heard 
music,  which  attracted  me  to  the  spot.  It 
was  the  performance  of  the  orchestra  of  the 
theatre.  It  was  a  temporary  building,  loosely 
boarded ;  and  as  I  looked  through  the  cracks 
of  the  covering,  I  saw  such  a  sight  as  I  had 
never  dreamed  of.  I  went  instantly  to  the 
door,  got  a  ticket,  and  crowded  my  way  in. 
By  degTces  I  managed  to  get  into  a  box 
which  was  full.  I  stood  for  the  first  hour  in 
perfect  amazement  at  the  lords  and  ladies, 
and  was  overwhelmed  by  the  brilliant  lights 
and  heavenly  music.  At  the  end  of  one  of 
the  acts  one  of  the  gentlemen  left  his  seat, 
and  went  out ;  and  I  took  it.  He  came 
back  and  claimed  his  seat.  I  was  not  in- 
clined to  admit  his  claim.  I  had  paid  my 
dollar,  and  told  him  I  thought  I  had  as  good 
a  right  to  a  seat  as  he  had;  and  that  he 
could  as  well  stand  an  hour  as  I.  He  pre- 
pared to  eject  me  by  force  ;  but,  as  I  un- 
folded my  dimensions,  he  relinquished  his 
purpose,  and  bore  the  loss  of  his  seat  as  well 
as  he  could.  I  did  not  leave  the  theatre 
until  the  last  lamp  was  extinguished.  The 


CHESTER  HARDING.  41 


play  which  had  so  enchanted  me  was  Scott's 
"  Lady  of  the  Lake."  This  was  my  first 
acquaintance  with  the  stage.  I  do  not  re- 
member how  we  fared  the  next  day  in 
our  marketing,  but  I  presume  I  borrowed 
another  dollar  in  the  morning. 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  never  read  any 
book  but  the  Bible,  and  could  only  read  that 
with  difficulty.  My  wife,  who  had  received 
a  comparatively  good  education,  and  had 
once  taught  school,  borrowed  of  one  of  the 
neighbors  "  The  Children  of  the  Abbey,"  a 
popular  novel  of  that  day.  I  was  rather 
opposed  to  her  reading  it,  as  I  had  been 
taught  to  believe  by  my  mother  that  cards 
and  novels  were  the  chief  instruments  of  the 
Devil  in  seducing  mortals  from  the  paths  of 
virtue.  However,  her  desire  to  read  it  was 
too  strong  to  be  overcome  by  any  objections 
I  could  raise,  so  I  had  to  yield ;  but  I  in- 
sisted upon  her  reading  it  aloud.  One  dark 
and  rainy  day  she  commenced  the  reading. 
She  read  on  till  bedtime,  and  then  proposed 
to  leave  the  rest  of  the  story  until  the  next 
day  ;  but  I  was  altogether  too  eager  to  hear 
how  the  next  chapter  ended  to  consent  to 
that.  She  was  persuaded  to  read  the  next 
chapter,  and  the  next,  and  the  next.  In 
short,  I  kept  her  reading  all  night,  and 


42 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


gave  her  no  rest  until  the  novel  was  finished. 
The  first  novel  I  ever  read  myself  was  "  Rob 
Roy."  I  could  only  read  it  understandingly 
by  reading  it  aloud,  and  to  this  day  I  often 
find  myself  whispering  the  words  in  the  daily 
newspaper. 

My  brother  Horace,  the  chair-maker,  was 
established  in  Paris,  Ky.  He  wrote  to  me 
that  he  was  painting  portraits,  and  that  there 
was  a  painter  in  Lexington  who  was  receiv- 
ing fifty  dollars  a  head.  This  price  seemed 
fabulous  to  me  ;  but  I  began  to  think  seri- 
ously of  trying  my  fortune  in  Kentucky.  I 
soon  settled  upon  the  idea,  and  acted  at 
once. 

Winding  up  my  affairs  in  Pittsburgh,  I 
found  that  I  had  just  money  enough  to  take 
me  down  the  river.  I  knew  a  barber,  by 
the  name  of  Jarvis,  who  was  going  to  Lex- 
ington, and  I  proposed  to  join  him  in  the 
purchase  of  a  large  skiff.  He  agreed  to  it ; 
and  we  fitted  it  up  with  a  sort  of  awning  or 
tent,  and  embarked,  with  our  wives  and 
children.  Sometimes  we  rowed  our  craft; 
but  oftener  we  let  her  float  as  she  pleased, 
while  we  gave  ourselves  up  to  music.  He, 
as  well  as  I,  played  the  clarionet ;  and  we 
had  much  enjoyment  on  our  voyage.  We 
arrived  in  Paris  with  funds  rather  low,  but, 


CHESTER  HARDING.  43 


as  my  brother  was  well  known  there,  I  found 
no  difficulty  on  that  score.^ 

Here  I  began  ray  career  as  a  professional 
artist.  I  took  a  room,  and  painted  the  por- 
trait of  a  very  popular  young  man,  and 
made  a  decided  hit.  In  six  months  from 
that  time,  I  had  painted  nearly  one  hun- 
dred portraits,  at  twenty-five  dollars  a  head. 
The  first  twenty-five  I  took  rather  disturbed 
the  equanimity  of  my  conscience.  It  did  not 
seem  to  me  that  the  portrait  was  intrinsi- 
cally worth  that  money;  now,  I  know  it  was 
not. 

I  have  stated  previously  that  I  was 
strictly  temperate.  This  was  not  from  prin- 
ciple, but  simply  because  I  did  not  want 
any  stimulant.  During  my  stay  in  Paris, 
I  was  constantly  thrown  into  the  society  of 
those  who  did  drink.  It  was  the  almost 
universal   custom  to  take  a  julep  before 

1  Mrs.  Harding'  used  to  describe  to  her  children  how, 
■when  nig-ht  fell,  the  flatboat  was  moored  to  the  shore, 
while  the  two  families  would  find  shelter  in  some  Indian 
wigwam,  sleeping  on  the  floor  with  their  feet  towards  the 
fire  which  was  burning  in  the  middle  of  the  circle  thus 
formed.  The  smoke  found  its  way  out  of  an  opening 
left  in  the  roof.  The  provisions  of  the  party  became 
nearly  exhausted  before  they  reached  civilization,  and 
she  shared  her  last  loaf  of  bread  with  her  fellow-travelers, 
not  knowing  where  the  next  mouthful  was  to  come  from 
for  herself  or  child. 


44  CHESTEB  HABDING. 


breakfast ;  and  by  degrees  I  fell  into  the 
habit  of  taking  7ni/  julep,  and  sometimes 
two.  I  soon  guessed  where  this  would  end, 
for  I  found  that  I  felt  uncomfortable  unless 
I  had  my  morning  dram.  I  stopped  short  at 
once,  and  for  five  years  never  tasted  a  drop 
of  ardent  spirits.  I  was  sometimes  obliged 
to  sip  a  glass  of  wine  at  the  dinner-table. 

Here  it  was  that  I  mingled  for  the  first 
time  with  the  tip-top  of  society.  I  went  at 
once,  on  my  arrival  in  the  town,  to  the  first- 
class  hotel.  I  found  unspeakable  embarrass- 
ment at  the  table,  with  so  many  fine  young 
gentlemen,  all  so  elegantly  dressed,  with  ruf- 
fled shirts,  rings  on  their  white  and  delicate 
fingers,  and  diamond  pins  in  their  bosoms. 
They,  no  doubt,  thought  me  very  clownish, 
as  I  undoubtedly  was.  I  found  little  respect 
paid  me  by  them,  until  I  began  to  attract 
the  attention  of  their  masters.  I  soon  be- 
came a  sort  of  lion,  and  grew  very  popular 
among  these  clerks,  especially  after  I  was  so 
far  advanced  in  the  ways  of  society  as  to 
take  my  morning  juleps. 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  thought  little  of  the 
profession,  so  far  as  its  honors  were  con- 
cerned. Indeed,  it  had  never  occurred  to 
me  that  it  was  more  honorable  or  profitable 
than  sign  painting.    I  now  began  to  enter- 


CHESTER  HABDTNG. 


45 


tain  more  elevated  ideas  of  the  art,  and  to 
desire  some  means  of  improvement.  Finding 
myself  in  funds  sufficient  to  visit  Phila- 
delphia, I  did  so,  and  spent  two  months  in 
that  city,  devoting  my  time  entirely  to  draw- 
ing  in  the  Academy,  and  studying  the  best 
pictures,  practicing  at  the  same  time  with 
the  brush.  I  would  sometimes  feel  a  good 
deal  discouraged  as  I  looked  at  the  works  of 
older  artists.  I  saw  the  labor  it  would  cost 
me  to  emulate  them,  working,  as  I  should, 
under  great  disadvantages.  Then  again, 
when  I  had  painted  a  picture  successfully, 
my  spirits  would  rise,  and  I  would  resolve 
that  I  could  and  would  overcome  every  ob- 
stacle. One  good  effect  of  my  visit  to  Phila- 
delphia was  to  open  my  eyes  to  the  merits 
of  the  works  of  other  artists,  though  it  took 
away  much  of  my  self -satisfaction.  My  own 
pictures  did  not  look  as  well  to  my  own 
eye  as  they  did  before  I  left  Paris.  I 
had  thought  then  that  my  pictures  were  far 
ahead  of  Mr.  Jewitt's,  the  painter  my  brother 
had  written  me  about,  who  received  such 
unheard-of  prices,  and  who  really  was  a 
good  artist.  My  estimation  of  them  was 
very  different  now:  I  found  they  were  so 
superior  to  mine  that  their  excellence  had 
been  beyond  my  capacity  of  appreciation. 


46  CHESTER  HARDING, 


When  I  returned  to  Kentucky,  I  found 
that  the  scarcity  of  money,  from  which  the 
State  was  then  suffering,  seriously  affected 
my  business  ;  and  after  struggling  on  for  a 
few  months,  without  bettering  my  finances, 
I  concluded  to  try  a  new  field.  I  first  tried 
my  fortune  in  Cincinnati ;  but  after  waiting 
a  week  or  two  in  vain  for  orders,  I  gave  up 
all  hope  of  succeeding  there,  and  determined 
to^push  on  to  St.  Louis,  But  how  to  get 
there  was  a  puzzling  question.  I  had  used 
up  all  my  money ;  but,  in  my  palmy  days 
in  Paris,  I  had  bought  a  dozen  silver  spoons, 
and  a  gold  watch  and  chain  for  my  wife. 
There  was  no  way  left  for  me  now  but  to 
dis]3ose  of  these  superfluities.  I  went  with 
them  to  a  broker,  and  pawned  them  for 
money  enough  to  take  me  and  my  family  to 
Missouri,  I  had  letters  of  introduction  to 
St.  Louis,  and  set  off  at  once  for  that  far-off 
city.  We  went  as  far  as  Louisville  on  a 
flatboat,  and  there  found  a  steamboat  ready 
to  take  passengers  ;  and  in  ten  days  we  were 
safely  landed  in  St.  Louis.  I  presented  one 
of  my  letters  to  Governor  Clarke,  who  was 
then  Governor  of  the  Territory,  Indian 
Agent,  etc.,  and  he  kindly  helped  me  about 
getting  a  suitable  room  for  a  studio,  and 
then  offered  himself  as  a  sitter.    This  was 


CHESTER  HARDING,  47 


an  auspicious  and  cheering  beginning.  I 
was  decidedly  happy  in  my  likeness  of  him, 
and,  long  before  I  had  finished  his  head,  I 
had  others  engaged  ;  and  for  fifteen  months 
I  was  kept  constantly  at  work. 

In  June  of  this  year  I  made  a  trip  of  one 
hundred  miles  for  the  purpose  of  painting 
the  portrait  of  old  Colonel  Daniel  Boone.  I 
had  much  trouble  in  finding  him.  He  was 
living,  some  miles  from  the  main  road,  in 
one  of  the  cabins  of  an  old  block -house 
which  was  built  for  the  protection  of  the 
settlers  against  the  incursions  of  the  In- 
dians. I  found  that  the  nearer  I  got  to  his 
dwelling,  the  less  was  known  of  him.  When 
within  two  miles  of  his  house,  I  asked  a  man 
to  tell  me  where  Colonel  Boone  lived.  He 
said  he  did  not  know  any  such  man.  Why, 
yes,  you  doj'  said  his  wife.  It  is  that 
white-headed  old  man  who  lives  on  the  bot- 
tom, near  the  river."  A  good  illustration 
of  the  proverb,  that  a  prophet  is  not  without 
honor  save  in  his  own  country. 

I  found  the  object  of  my  search  engaged 
in  cooking  his  dinner.  He  was  lying  in  his 
bunk,  near  the  fire,  and  had  a  long  strip  of 
venison  wound  around  his  ramrod,  and  was 
busy  turning  it  before  a  brisk  blaze,  and 
using  salt  and  pepper  to  season  his  meat.  I 


48  CHESTER  HARDING. 


at  once  told  him  the  object  of  my  visit.  I 
found  that  he  hardly  knew  what  I  meant. 
I  explained  the  matter  to  him,  and  he  agreed 
to  sit.  He  was  ninety  years  old,  and  rather 
infirm  ;  his  memory  of  passing  events  was 
much  impaired,  yet  he  would  amuse  me 
every  day  by  his  anecdotes  of  his  earlier 
life.  I  asked  him  one  day,  just  after  his 
description  of  one  of  his  long  hunts,  if  he 
never  got  lost,  having  no  compass.  "  No," 
said  he,  "  I  can't  say  as  ever  I  was  lost,  but 
I  was  bewildered  once  for  three  days." 

He  was  much  astonished  at  seeing  the 
likeness.  He  had  a  very  large  progeny ; 
one  granddaughter  had  eighteen  children, 
all  at  home  near  the  old  man's  cabin :  they 
were  even  more  astonished  at  the  picture 
than  the  old  man  himself. 

I  will  mention  in  this  connection  the  fact 
of  my  painting  one  of  the  Osage  chiefs. 
There  was  a  deputation  from  this  tribe  on 
a  visit  to  Governor  Clarke.  I  asked  some  of 
them  to  go  to  my  room,  and  there  showed 
them  the  portrait  of  Governor  Clarke,  at  the 
sight  of  which  they  gave  several  significant 
grunts.  They  were  not  satisfied  with  merely 
looking,  but  went  close  to  the  picture,  rubbed 
their  fingers  across  the  face,  looked  behind 
it,  and  showed  great  wonder.    The  old  chief 


CHESTER  HABBING.  49 


was  a  fine-looking  man,  of  great  dignity  of 
manner.  I  asked  liim  to  sit  for  his  portrait. 
He  did  so  ;  and,  after  giving  evident  signs 
of  pleasure  at  seeing  himself  reproduced  on 
canvas,  he  said  that  I  was  a  god  (a  great 
spirit),  and  if  I  would  go  home  with  him,  I 
should  be  a  brave,  and  have  two  wives. 

The  deputation  went  to  Washington, 
where  they  stayed  long  enough  to  lose  much, 
I  may  say  nearly  all,  of  that  which  ennobles 
the  Indian  character.  I  saw  them  on  their 
return  to  St.  Louis.  They  wore,  instead  of 
their  own  graceful  blankets,  a  military  dress 
with  tawdry  cotton  epaulettes  and  cotton 
lace ;  and  withal  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of 
getting  beastly  drunk.  All  the  interest  I 
had  felt  in  them  was  gone. 

The  city  became  very  sickly,  and  the 
weather  was  intensely  hot.  I  decided  to 
leave  the  city  for  a  month  or  two.  I  hired 
a  pair  of  horses  and  a  close  carriage  and 
driver,  and  started  for  the  town  of  Franklin, 
about  two  hundred  miles  from  St.  Louis, 
situated  on  the  Missouri  River.  The  day 
after  we  started  I  was  taken  violently  ill  of 
dysentery,  and  was  reduced  in  one  week  to 
a  skeleton. 

We  met  with  an  adventure  on  our  way, 
which  I  relate  for  the  amusement  of  the 


50  CHESTER  HARDING. 


younger  portion  o£  my  readers.  We  stopped 
one  day  about  noon  to  bait  our  horses. 
While  waiting  at  the  tavern,  I  saw  the  fresh 
skin  of  some  wild  animal,  and  inquired  what 
it  was.  I  was  told  that  it  was  the  skin  of  a 
panther  that  had  been  shot  the  night  before, 
and  that  her  mate  was  prowling  about  the 
prairie.  The  two  had  done  great  damage 
to  the  young  cattle  and  hogs,  and  a  deadly 
war  had  been  waged  against  them.  The 
whole  settlement  had  turned  out  on  the 
hunt,  and  at  last  had  sueeeded  in  killing 
one.  We  started  to  cross  the  prairie  called 
the  Twenty-Mile  Prairie,  and  traveled  on 
through  intense  heat  and  swarms  of  flies 
until  near  night,  and  were  within  a  mile  of 
the  wooded  border,  when  the  driver  sud- 
denly stopped,  and  called  out,  "My  God! 
massa,  what  dat  dar?  "  I  lifted  the  window 
of  the  coach,  and  there  stood  an  enormous 
panther,  directly  in  our  path,  and  in  a  half- 
crouching  posture.  The  negro  swung  his 
hat,  and  yelled  as  if  he  were  frightened  out 
of  his  senses ;  and  there  was  good  cause  for 
his  fear,  for  the  animal  was  not  more  than 
twenty  feet  from  us.  The  monster  gave 
one  or  two  leaps  mto  the  grass,  and  there 
stood  and  eyed  us  very  closely  as  we  passed. 
If  the  driver  was  frightened,  those  within 


CHESTER  HARDING.  61 


the  carriage  were  no  less  so.  We  were  none 
of  us  sorry  to  part  company  with  the  crea- 
ture. We  soon  reached  the  tavern,  and,  as 
the  landlord  was  beginning  to  take  the  har- 
ness from  the  horses,  I  told  him  the  adven- 
ture. He  instantly  dropped  the  harness; 
and  calling  all  the  men,  boys,  and  dogs  that 
were  near,  they  all  started  at  their  utmost 
speed.  They  soon  found  the  beast,  and  fol- 
lowed him  nearly  all  night ;  but  he  would 
not  "  tree." 

We  had  a  little  adventure  at  this  tavern, 
which  might  have  shocked  some  of  the  re- 
fined boarders  at  the  Astor  House.  I  had 
observed  a  white  counterpane  spread  upon 
the  grass,  covered  over  with  fruit  for  the 
purpose  of  drying.  On  sitting  down  at  the 
tea-table,  the  same  article  appeared  as  a 
table-cloth ;  and,  on  going  to  bed,  we  found 
it  put  to  its  legitimate  use. 

We  arrived  at  last  at  the  town  of  Frank- 
lin, which  was  the  county  seat.  Where  the 
bed  of  the  Missouri  Eiver  now  lies,  the 
court-house  then  stood.  Such  have  been  the 
ravages  of  this  unreliable  stream  that  not  a 
house  in  the  then  flourishing  town  is  now 
standing.  It  was  here  that  I  obtained  a  per- 
fect knowledge  of  the  English  language :  at 
least,  I  was  assured  by  an  itinerant  professor 


52  CHESTER  HAEDING. 


that  he  could  make  me  a  thorough  gram- 
marian in  twelve  lessons.  As  I  took  the  re- 
quired number,  if  I  am  not  all  that  he  prom- 
ised me,  it  must  be  his  fault,  and  not  mine. 

While  in  St.  Louis,  I  bought  a  lot  of  land, 
for  which  I  painted  five  hundred  dollars' 
worth  in  pictures  at  their  then  current  value. 
On  leaving  St.  Louis,  I  left  the  lot  in  charge 
of  an  agent,  with  funds  for  the  accruing 
taxes.  I  never  thought  of  the  lot  or  the 
agent  for  five  years,  when  I  met  a  gentle- 
man in  Washington  who  was  well  acquainted 
with  real  estate  in  St.  Louis.  I  asked  him 
if  he  knew  anything  about  my  lot :  he  said 
it  had,  he  thought,  been  sold  for  taxes. 
This  proved  to  be  true  ;  but,  as  the  limit  of 
redemption  had  not  expired,  I  empowered 
this  gentleman  to  redeem  it,  and  to  sell  it 
at  once,  if  he  could  get  a  fair  price  for  it, 
to  relieve  myself  from  the  trouble  of  look- 
ing after  it.  He  sold  it  for  seven  hundred 
dollars.  That  same  lot  is  now  worth  forty 
thousand.  By  such  chances  fortunes  are 
made  or  missed! 

My  ambition  in  my  profession  now  began 
to  take  a  higher  flight,  and  I  determined  to 
go  to  Europe.  I  had  accumulated  over  a 
thousand  dollars  in  cash,  and  had  bought 
a  carriage  and  pair  of  horses.    With  these 


CHESTER  HARDING.  53 


I  started  with  my  family  for  western  New 
York,  where  my  parents  were  still  living,  by 
whom  we  were  warmly  welcomed. 

My  success  in  painting,  and  especially  the 
amount  of  money  I  had  saved,  was  the  won- 
der of  the  whole  neighborhood.  My  grand- 
father Smith,  at  an  advanced  age,  had  fol- 
lowed his  children  to  the  West,  and  was 
living  in  the  same  place  with  my  father. 
He  had,  as  yet,  said  nothing  congratulatory 
upon  my  success ;  but  one  day  he  began, 
"  Chester,  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about 
your  present  mode  of  life.  I  think  it  is 
very  little  better  than  swindling  to  charge 
forty  dollars  for  one  of  those  effigies.  Now 
I  want  you  to  give  up  this  course  of  living, 
and  settle  down  on  a  farm,  and  become  a 
respectable  man."  As  I  did  not  exactly 
coincide  in  his  views,  I  did  not  become  the 
"  respectable  man "  according  to  his  no- 
tions. 

My  failure  in  Caledonia  for  four  or  five 
hundred  dollars  had  caused  as  much  sur- 
prise and  excitement  as  would  the  failure  of 
any  of  our  first  merchants  in  Boston.  The 
surprise  was,  at  least,  as  great  to  my  credit- 
ors to  find  themselves  paid  off  in  full. 

My  plan  now  was  to  leave  my  wife  and 
children  with  my  father  and  mother,  and  go 


54  CHESTER  HARDING. 


to  Europe.  This  plan  was  so  far  matured 
and  carried  out  that  I  had  my  trunk  packed, 
and  was  to  leave  on  the  following  morning.^ 
Just  before  starting,  my  mother  asked  me 
to  sit  down  by  her,  as  she  wished  to  have  a 
serious  talk  with  me.  She  began,  "You 
are  now  going  to  Europe ;  and  how  soon  — 
if  ever  —  you  return  no  one  can  tell.  You 
are  leaving  your  wife  and  children  with  very 
little  to  live  upon  ;  certainly,  not  enough  to 
support  them  in  the  way  they  have  lived. 
To  come  to  the  point,  I  want  you  to  give  up 
your  trip  for  the  present,  and  buy  a  farm 
[pointing  to  one  in  the  neighborhood  that 
was  for  sale],  and  place  your  family  in  a 
comfortable  position.  If  you  go  to  Europe, 
and  never  return,  they  are  then  provided 
for ;  and  this  reflection  will  console  you 
under  any  trials  you  may  be  called  on  to 
pass  through."  This  appeal  was  too  much 
for  me.  I  yielded ;  and  the  next  morning, 
instead  of  starting  for  Europe,  I  started  for 
the  farm,  and  before  night  had  a  deed  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  acres.  I  next  made 
a  contract  with  a  carpenter  to  build  a  f rame- 

1  The  ship  I  was  intending  to  sail  in  was  the  ill-fated 
Albion.  She  was  wrecked,  and  all  on  board  were  lost 
except  one  man,  an  invalid,  who  was  thrown  up  a  cleft  in 
the  rocks  and  saved. 


CHESTER  HARDING.  55 


house  upon  it ;  and  then  started  for  Wash- 
ington to  spend  the  winter. 

I  had  fairly  begun  work  before  Congress 
assembled,  and  had  some  happy  specimens 
for  exhibition.  I  spent  about  six  months 
there ;  was  full  of  business,  and  was  able 
in  the  spring  to  pay  for  the  new  house,  and 
make  another  payment  on  the  farm. 

The  following  summer  I  spent  in  Pitts- 
field  and  Northampton.  Mr.  Mills,  United 
States  Senator  from  Massachusetts,  resided 
in  the  latter  town.  He  had  seen  my  pictures 
in  Washington,  and  had  spoken  favorably 
of  them  and  of  me ;  and  I  found  that  I 
had  already  a  high  reputation.  I  at  once  got 
orders,  and  in  a  short  time  my  room  was 
tolerably  well  filled  with  pictures. 

While  I  was  there,  the  annual  cattle-show 
came  off.  I  allowed  my  pictures  to  be 
exhibited  among  the  mechanic  arts.  They 
elicited  great  admiration,  and  formed  one  of 
the  chief  attractions.  I  went  into  the  room 
one  day  when  there  was  a  great  crowd,  and 
was  soon  pointed  out  as  the  artist.  Con- 
versation ceased,  and  all  eyes  were  turned 
upon  me.  This  was  altogether  too  much 
for  my  modesty,  and  I  withdrew  as  quickly 
as  possible.  ^ 

I  one  day  received  an  invitation  to  a  large 


66  CHESTER  HARDING. 


party,  to  be  given  by  Mrs.  Ashmun  (the 
stepmother  of  George  Ashaiun),  which  I 
accepted ;  but,  as  the  evening  drew  near, 
began  to  regret  that  I  had  done  so.  I  finally 
went  into  my  room,  and  sat  down  on  the 
bed,  before  beginning  to  dress,  and  took  the 
matter  into  serious  consideration.  Should 
I  go  ?  or  should  I  not  ?  It  was  a  fearful 
ordeal  to  go  through.  I  had  never  been  to 
a  fashionable  lady's  party,  and  should  not 
know  how  to  behave.  My  heart  grew  faint 
at  the  thought  of  my  ignorance  and  awk- 
wardness. But  then,  I  reflected,  there  must 
be  a  first  time  ;  and,  with  a  mighty  efifort, 
resolved  that  this  should  be  it !  So  I  went, 
and  passed  through  the  trial  better  than  I 
anticipated  ;  but  I  was  glad  enough  when  it 
was  over. 

While  in  Northampton,  I  painted  the 
portraits  of  two  gentlemen  from  Boston. 
They  encouraged  me  to  establish  myself  in 
that  city.  I  did  so,  and  for  six  months  rode 
triumphantly  on  the  top  wave  of  fortune. 
I  took  a  large  room,  arranged  my  pictures, 
and  fixed  upon  one  o'clock  as  my  hour  for 
exhibition.  As  soon  as  the  clock  struck, 
my  bell  would  begin  to  ring;  and  people 
would  flock  in,  sometimes  to  the  number  of 
fifty.    New  orders  were  constantly  given  me 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


67 


for  pictures.  I  was  compelled  to  resort  to  a 
book  for  registering  the  names  of  the  numer- 
ous applicants.  As  a  vacancy  occurred,  I 
had  only  to  notify  the  next  on  the  list,  and 
it  was  filled.  I  do  not  think  any  artist  in 
this  country  ever  enjoyed  more  popularity 
than  I  did ;  but  popularity  is  often  easily 
won,  and  as  easily  lost.  Mr.  Stuart,  the 
greatest  portrait  painter  this  country  ever 
produced,  was  at  that  time  in  his  manhood's 
strength  as  a  painter ;  yet  he  was  idle  half 
the  winter.  He  would  ask  of  his  friends, 
"  How  rages  the  Harding  fever  ?  " 

Although  I  had  painted  about  eighty  por- 
traits, I  had  a  still  greater  number  of  ap- 
plicants awaiting  their  turn  ;  but  I  was  de- 
termined to  go  to  Europe,  as  I  had  money 
enough  to  pay  for  my  farm,  and  some  six- 
teen hundred  dollars  besides.  I  had  en- 
gaged to  paint  a  few  portraits  in  Springfield, 
which  I  did  on  my  way  to  Barre,  N.  Y., 
where  my  family  were  living.  After  spend- 
ing a  week  or  two  there  in  arranging  mat- 
ters connected  with  their  comfort,  I  took 
leave  of  them,  and  started  for  New  York 
city,  where  I  was  to  embark.  On  my  way,  I 
spent  a  day  or  two  in  Northampton  with  my 
friends.  While  there,  a  lady,  whose  judg- 
ment I  respected,  advised  me  to  send  for 


58  CHESTER  HARDING. 


my  family,  and  establish  them  in  that  town ; 
urging  as  a  reason,  that  my  children  would 
grow  up  wild  where  they  were,  and  that  my 
wife  could  not  improve  in  the  accomplish- 
ments of  refined  society,  but  would  inevita- 
bly remain  stationary,  on  the  standard  level 
of  those  she  would  be  obliged  to  associate 
with,  while  I  should  be  improving,  by  min- 
gling with  the  refined  and  distinguished  per- 
sons my  profession  would  throw  me  among. 
I  was  impressed  with  the  good  sense  of  this 
advice,  and  adopted  it.  I  started  at  once 
for  my  wild  home,  and  brought  my  family, 
now  numbering  four  children,  to  Northamp- 
ton, and  saw  them  well  settled  in  a  very  ex- 
cellent boarding-house,  where  they  remained 
two  years.  I  have  had  good  reason  to  thank 
my  friend  for  her  judicious  suggestion. 

And  now,  at  last,  I  took  my  departure 
for  a  foreign  land,  leaving  wife,  children, 
and  friends,  —  all,  indeed,  that  1  had  sym- 
pathy with,  —  to  cast  in  my  lot,  for  a  time, 
with  strangers  in  a  strange  land.  My  heart 
was  full  of  conflicting  emotions.  Scores  of 
my  patrons  in  Boston  had  tried  to  dissuade 
me  from  taking  this  step,  some  urging  as  a 
reason,  that  I  already  had  such  a  press  of 
business  that  I  could  lay  up  a  considerable 
sum  of  money  yearly ;  while  others  insisted 


CHESTER  HARDING.  59 

that  I  need  not  go  abroad,  for  I  already- 
painted  better  pictures  than  any  artist  in 
this  country,  and  probably  better  than  any 
in  Europe.  My  self-esteem  was  not  large 
enough,  however,  to  listen  to  all  this,  and 
my  desire  for  study  and  improvement  was 
too  great  to  be  overpowered  by  flattery.  In 
spite  of  all  advice  to  the  contrary,  I  sailed 
for  England,  in  the  good  packet  ship  Can- 
ada, on  the  first  day  of  August,  1823. 

During  the  two  years  of  separation  from 
my  family  which  ensued,  I  kept  a  journal 
to  send  to  my  wife ;  and,  as  it  gives  the  de- 
tails of  my  experiences  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Atlantic  with  greater  freshness  than  I 
could  throw  into  any  account  I  might  try  to 
give  at  this  distance  of  time,  I  shall  continue 
my  narrative  by  making  extracts  from  it. 


CHAPTER  III. 


That  Mr.  Harding's  career  had  excited 
a  widespread  and  unusual  interest,  is  evi- 
denced by  many  tributes  to  his  genius  writ- 
ten at  that  time,  which  still  exist.  As  early 
as  June  29,  1823,  before  he  went  to  Eng- 
land, Samuel  Orne,  Esq.,  of  Springfield, 
Mass.,  wrote  regarding  him  to  his  brother- 
in-law,  Hon.  D.  A.  White  of  Salem,  Mass., 
as  follows  :  — 

"  Mr.  Harding's  three  weeks  were  up  yester- 
day, in  which  time  he  has  painted  fifteen  por- 
traits, one  of  which  is  an  excellent  one  of  himself. 
He  has  also  painted  Judge  Hooker,  Mr.  G.  Bliss, 
Mr.  Sprague,  Mr.  Ames,  and  Mr.  Pyncheon,  be- 
sides those  he  had  begun  when  you  were  with  us* 
I  sent  you  the  last  "  Journal,"  containing  a  most 
ridiculous  puffing  article,  for  you  to  laugh  at, 
written  by  the  editor,  from  which  I  should  think 
Harding  would  have  received  anything  rather 
than  pleasure.  As  to  the  likenesses,  however, 
they  are  admirable,  and  the  painting  I  should 
consider  first-rate.  The  difficulty  seems  to  be 
to  decide  which  is  best ;  the  majority,  however, 


CHESTEB  HABDING. 


61 


vote  the  Parson's  [Rev.  W.  B.  O.  Peabody]  to 
be,  and  mine  the  least  striking  at  first,  but  im- 
proves the  most  on  acquaintance.  Hang  it,  why 
can't  it  be  so  with  the  original !  .  .  .  Mr.  Hard- 
ing, I  feel  more  and  more  interest  in  the  more  I 
see  him.  In  addition  to  his  wonderful  genius, 
and  his  natural  good  sense,  he  has  that  frank, 
generous,  open-hearted,  unaffected  manner,  which 
at  once  secures  a  strong  hold  on  your  best  feel- 
ings." 

J.  Stoddard  Johnston,  Esq.,  of  Frankfort, 
Ky.,  writes  in  1881  to  Samuel  Bowles,  Esq., 
of  Springfield,  Mass. 

"  The  receipt  of  your  letter  reminded  me  that 
I  had  seen  contemporary  mention  of  Mr.  Hard- 
ing in  some  old  family  letters.  I  have  succeeded 
in  finding  the  one  in  which  he  is  mentioned,  and 
transcribe  it,  as  of  probable  interest.  It  is  writ- 
ten by  my  great-grandfather,  in  New  York,  to  his 
daughter,  my  grandmother,  in  New  Orleans. 

'  March  25,  1824. 
'  Calling  at  Mr.  Dwight's  office  yesterday,  he 
mentioned  a  curious  fact  of  an  American  artist, 
a  portrait  painter  of  eminence,  Chester  Harding, 
about  five  years  ago  destitute  of  home  and  hope. 
.  .  .  Last  August  he  sailed  for  Liverpool,  and  is 
now  in  London.  He  has  painted  Mr.  Rush  and 
lady,  Mr.  Perkins,  Mr.  Coke,  the  great,  wealthy 
agriculturist,  and  his  family,  the  Duke  of  Sussex, 


62  CHESTER  HARDING. 


and  is  patronized  by  the  Duke  of  Gloucester. 
He  has  written  for  permission  to  exhibit  the  por- 
trait of  our  minister,  Mr.  Rush,  in  our  Academy. 
It  is  probable  that  he  will  meet  with  the  great- 
est success  and  reward  in  England,  that  great 
mart  of  encouragement  for  the  arts  and  sciences. 
This  is  so  astonishing  an  instance  of  original 
genius  rising  superior  to  want  of  education  and 
absolute  penury,  that  I  have  thought  it  a  better 
topic  for  your  gratification  than  occupying  the 
same  number  of  lines  with  mere  inanity.^ 

The  allusion  to  himself,  referred  to  by 
Mr.  Harding  in  a  letter  to  his  wife,  some- 
what later,  is  also  introduced  here.  It  is 
taken  from  "  Blackwood's  Magazine  "  for 
August,  1824,  under  the  head  of  "  Portrait 
Painting." 

"CHESTER  HARDING. 

"  This  extraordinary  man  is  a  fair  specimen  of 
the  American  character.  About  six  years  ago, 
he  was  living  in  the  wilds  of  Kentucky,  had  never 
seen  a  decent  picture  in  his  life,  and  spent  most 
of  his  leisure  time,  such  as  could  be  spared  from 
the  more  laborious  occupations  of  life,  in  drum- 
ming for  a  militia  company,  and  in  fitting  axe- 
helves  to  axes,  in  which  two  things  he  soon  be- 
came distinguished.  By  and  by  some  revolution 
took  place  in  his  affairs ;  a  new  ambition  sprang 
up  within  him;  and  being  in  a  strange  place 


CHESTER  HABDING.  63 


(without  friends,  and  without  money,  and  with 
a  family  of  his  own),  at  a  tavern,  the  landlord  of 
which  had  been  disappointed  by  a  sign  painter, 
Mr.  Harding  undertook  the  sign,  apparently  out 
of  compassion  to  the  landlord,  but  in  reality, 
to  pay  his  bill,  and  provide  bread  for  his  chil- 
dren. He  succeeded  ;  had  plenty  of  employment 
in  the  '  profession  '  of  sign  painting,  took  heart, 
and  ventured  a  step  higher,  —  first  in  painting 
chairs,  and  then  portraits.  Laughable  as  this 
may  seem,  it  is  nevertheless  entirely  and  strictly 
true.  .  .  . 

"  Mr.  Harding  is  now  in  London  ;  has  painted 
some  remarkably  good  portraits  (not  pictures)  ; 
among  others,  one  of  John  D.  Hunter  (the  hero 
of  *  Hunter's  Narrative'),  which  is  decidedly  the 
best  of  a  multitude  ;  one  or  two  of  H.  R.  H.  the 
Duke  of  Sussex,  the  head  of  which  is  capital ; 
one  of  Mr.  Owen,  of  Lanark,  —  a  portrait  of  ex- 
traordinary plainness,  power,  and  sobriety ;  and 
some  others  which  were  shown  at  Somerset  House 
and  Suffolk  Street. 

"  Mr.  Harding  is  ignorant  of  drawing.  It  is 
completely  evident  that  he  draws  only  with  a  full 
brush,  correcting  the  parts  by  comparison  one 
with  another.  Hence  it  is  that  his  heads  and 
bodies  appear  to  be  the  work  of  two  different 
persons,  a  master  and  a  bungler.  His  hands  are 
very  bad ;  his  composition,  generally,  quite  after 
the  fashion  of  a  beginner  ;  and  his  drapery  very 
like  block-tin,  or  rather,  I  should  say,  this  was 


64 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


the  case,  for  there  is  a  very  visible  improvement 
in  his  late  works.  A.  B." 

Upon  Mr.  Harding's  departure  for  Eng- 
land, Miss  Louisa  J.  Park  of  Boston,  af- 
terwards the  wife  of  E.  B.  Hall,  D.  D., 
addressed  to  him  the  following  lines  :  — 

*'  Is  there  no  magic  in  the  works  of  men  ? 
Sits  there  no  spirit,  Bryant,  on  thy  pen  ? 
Doth  AUston  commune  but  with  earthly  things  ? 
Is  it  no  witchcraft  that  round  Harding  flings 
The  mighty  power  to  chain  Expression  down, 
And  sketch  with  equal  truth  the  sage  or  clown  ? 
How  from  his  rapid  touch  the  features  grow, 
And  on  the  senseless  canvas  living  glow! 
While  gentler  strokes  shade  each  defect  away, 
Yet  let  the  fixed  and  close  resemblance  stay ! 
Most  wondrous  gift,  from  nature's  self  derived. 
His  genius  of  all  foreign  aid  deprived, 
Sprung  up  and  bloomed  amid  our  wilds  obscure, 
And  won  its  self-taught  way  to  glory  sure. 
No  Grecian  temples  caught  his  boyish  eye, 
In  youth,  he  gazed  on  no  Italian  sky, 
But  taste  untutored  claimed  her  favorite  child. 
And  heaven-born  Genius  led  him  from  the  wild. 
Soon  shall  the  deep  blue  waves  beneath  him  heave, 
And  brighter  lands  his  pilgrim  steps  receive. 
Soon  shall  the  noblest  trophies  of  his  art 
Wake  the  deep  raptures  of  his  feeling  heart ; 
But,  oh  !  still  homeward  may  his  wishes  turn  ; 
To  gild  his  country's  fame,  each  talent  burn  ! 
Crowned  with  success,  uninjured  by  his  fame, 
As  erst  our  great,  our  modest  Allston  came, 
Soon  may  he  tread  his  native  shores  once  more, 
And  find  his  perils  with  his  wanderings  o'er." 


CHESTER  HARDING,  65 


EXTRACTS  FROM  JOURNAL. 

1823,  August  1.  Left  New  York  for 
Liverpool  in  the  ship  Canada.  Got  on 
board  the  steamboat  at  the  Battery  wharf 
at  10  o'clock  A.  M.,  and  on  board  ship  at 
12,  the  ship  having  dropped  down  the  har- 
bor the  night  preceding.  While  my  fellow- 
passengers  were  taking  leave  of  friends  and 
relatives,  I,  being  deprived  of  that  com- 
pound of  pain  and  pleasure,  stood  gazing, 
sometimes  on  the  crowd  that  came  to  see  us 
off,  sometimes  on  the  distant  and  delightful 
scenery  that  surrounds  the  harbor,  and 
sometimes  lost  in  silent  meditations. 

Ship  weighed  anchor  at  4  p.  M.,  and  beat 
out  against  head  winds. 

August  6.  Surrounded  by  waves  moun- 
tain-high. Sometimes  our  ship  plunged  into 
the  valley  and  then  rose  to  the  brow  of  an 
immense  hill.  We  continued,  however,  to 
sail  on  in  the  centre  of  this  apparent  circle, 
which  seemed  to  move  on  with  us. 

August  13.  Saw  a  brig  at  a  great  dis- 
tance. At  4  p.  M.  killed  a  porpoise,  and 
took  him  on  board.  He  appears  more  like 
flesh  than  fish;  has  a  great  quantity  of 
blood  in  his  frame,  and  about  the  jaws  and 
neck  resembles  a  hog. 


66 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


August  14.  High  wind  and  rain,  with  a 
tremendous  sea. 

August  15.  Gale  so  severe  that  I  could 
obtain  no  sleep  at  night. 

August  16.  I  was  very  much  alarmed 
by  the  continued  and  increased  violence  of 
the  gale,  but  I  fancy  without  any  real  dan- 
ger. While  others  slumbered  in  fearless 
security,  I  was  busily  occupied  upon  deck 
in  seeing  that  all  was  rightly  managed. 

August  17.  Greatly  refreshed  by  a  night 
of  undisturbed  sleep.  Off  Cape  Clear,  with 
a  light  breeze  from  the  south.  Sea  very  calm, 
with  little  rolling  or  pitching  of  the  vessel,  a 
pleasure,  the  enjoyment  of  which  repaid  us 
well  for  the  suffering  undergone  for  three 
days  and  nights,  previously,  during  the  beat- 
ing inflicted  by  the  gale.  Strong  hopes  en- 
tertained among  the  passengers  of  being  in 
Liverpool,  Tuesday  morning,  the  19th,  and 
many  bets  made  on  the  subject. 

August  18.  Went  on  deck  at  4  o'clock 
A.  M.,  and  found  the  sailors  taking  in  sail. 
At  half  past  four,  saw  the  sun  rise,  and  be- 
fore half  of  its  orb  was  visible  it  began  to 
be  hid  by  a  black  cloud.  The  whole  sky 
looked  awfully  threatening.  The  captain 
seemed  much  agitated,  and  upon  speaking 
with  him,  I  found  that  we  were  in  the  Irish 


CHESTER  HAULING.  67 


Channel,  and  within  a  short  distance  of  the 
rock  on  which  the  unfortunate  Albion  was 
lost.  This  intelligence,  with  the  recollection 
of  how  near  I  came  to  taking  passage  on 
board  that  vessel,  occasioned  not  a  little 
emotion.  The  captain  kept  pacing  the  deck 
amid  a  violent  rain-storm,  which  had  now 
commenced,  and  beat  full  in  his  face.  This 
voluntary  exposure  did  not  lessen  my  fears. 
Soon,  however,  the  clouds  began  to  break 
and  clear  away.  12  o'clock,  all  well.  At 
4  p.  M.,  take  in  a  pilot. 

August  19.  As  the  sun  rose,  we  discov- 
ered land  ;  at  10  A.  M.,  arrived  safely  in  port, 
and  felt  so  ridiculously  happy  in  putting  my 
foot  on  shore  again  that  I  laughed  heartily, 
without  knowing  why. 

The  docks  of  this  city  are  amazing  to  a 
stranger.  The  city  has  very  narrow,  dirty 
streets,  over  shoes  in  mud.  Went  in  search 
of  the  picture  gallery,  and  after  much 
trouble  in  searching  found  it,  but  there 
were  few  good  pictures  in  it. 

Stopped  at  the  Waterloo  Hotel,  where 
everything  is  in  fine  style. 

Wednesday^  August  20.  Took  a  seat  at 
Liverpool  in  an  opposition  coach  for  Bir- 
mingham. Traveled  through  a  delightful  and 
highly  cultivated  country.  Admired  the  neat 


68  CHESTER  HABDING, 


and  clean  appearance  of  the  cottages.  The 
sudden  and  very  great  transition  from  ease 
and  opulence  to  extreme  and  abject  misery 
cannot  fail,  however,  to  be  a  source  of  pain- 
ful reflection  to  every  intelligent  traveler 
upon  that  road.  The  rich  seem  to  have  al- 
most exhaustless  wealth  from  the  refinement 
and  profusion  of  their  luxuries;  and  the 
squalid  wretchedness  of  the  poor  exhibits 
not  less  striking  evidence  of  the  extreme  of 
poverty.  The  first  annoyance  experienced 
by  a  stranger  traveling  in  this  country  is 
the  unremitting  applications  of  coachmen, 
waiters,  and  chambermaids  for  money,  when 
he  is  unable  to  discover  any  foundation  for 
their  claims.  Custom,  however,  is  so  des- 
potic a  tyrant,  and  so  irresistible  in  his 
sway,  that  one  yields  to  all  these  demands 
without  questioning  their  justice ;  the  au- 
thority from  which  they  are  derived  is  so 
universally  respected  that  its  name  is  a 
sufficient  passport  for  every  species  of  im- 
position. 

Birmingham,  from  its  great  number  of 
mills,  is  enveloped  in  smoke ;  which,  in  ad- 
dkion  to  a  fog,  almost  prevents  one  from 
finding  his  way  through  the  streets. 

One  of  our  fellow  -  passengers  gave  us 
(Captain  Barnaby  and  myself)  a  letter  to 


CHESTER  HARDING,  69 


his  friend  in  Birmingham,  which  contained 
a  singular  mistake,  that  amused  us  not  a 
little.  The  letter  ran,  "  Dear  Tom,  will 
you  show  these  gentlemen  some  of  your 
msinufactU7'es  ?  "  instead  of  factories.  The 
consequences  of  the  mistake  were  such  as 
might  be  anticipated.  The  note  was  duly 
delivered  with  our  address,  and  in  a  very 
short  time  the  "  man  of  brass  "  came  down, 
quite  out  of  breath,  with  many  apologies  for 
being  out  when  we  did  him  the  favor  to 
call,  begging  that  we  would  accompany  him 
to  his  warehouse,  where  he  would  show  us 
as  great  a  variety,  and  at  as  low  prices,  as 
any  man  in  his  line  in  Birmingham.  But, 
alas  !  when  informed  by  us  of  his  mistake, 
and  he  ascertained  that  he  should  have  no 
heavy  orders  to  fill,  he  was  instantly  seized 
with  an  ague  that  seemed  to  freeze  him  into 
utter  speechlessness :  but  a  few  moments 
sufficed  to  restore  to  him  the  use  of  his  fac- 
ulties, and  his  manners  softened  towards  us 
sufficiently  to  induce  an  offer  of  his  ser- 
vices in  showing  us  some  of  the  wonders  of 
the  town;  an  offer  which  was  readily  ac- 
cepted, and  which  procured  us  the  sight  of 
one  brass  and  copper  foundry. 

Friday^  August  22.  Left  Birmingham 
for  London. 


70 


CHESTER  HARDING 


Saturday/,  August  23.  Entered  the 
grand  metropolis,  and  took  lodgings  at  Coop- 
er's Hotel.  Walked  about  the  neighboring 
streets  ;  saw  the  mighty  St.  Paul's,  and  the 
millions  passing  it.  On  first  entering  Fleet 
Street,  I  was  disposed  to  stop  until  the 
crowd  had  passed,  but  soon  found  the  pro- 
cession was  interminable.  In  the  evening 
went  to  see  Matthews  in  "  Mons.  Tonson  ;  " 
not  so  much  gratified  as  when  I  saw  him  in 
Boston. 

Sunday^  August  24.  Rain  and  smoke 
render  a  candle  almost  necessary  to  read  or 
write.  My  friend  left  me  to  my  own  re- 
flections, which  my  situation,  —  being  in  a 
small,  dark  room  in  the  third  story,  or,  as 
my  friend  described  it,  "  the  first  floor  down 
the  chimney,"  —  united  to  a  gloomy  day, 
conspired  to  make  quite  depressing.  My 
only  prospect  from  the  windows  was  a  sight 
of  a  few  dirty  buildings  with  their  out- 
houses. Then  the  awful  tolling  of  St.  Paul's 
went  to  my  heart  with  overwhelming  power. 
I  had  never  before  heard  such  melancholy 
peals,  and  their  first  influence  was  irresist- 
ible. The  clouds  broke  in  the  evening,  and 
I  walked  down  to  the  Waterloo  Bridge. 

Tuesday^  August  26.  Took  a  coach,  and 
drove  up  and  down  the  city  in  search  of 


CHESTER  HABDING.  71 

Mr.  Leslie,  without  knowing  his  address  ; 
and,  after  two  or  three  hours  of  fruitless 
exertion,  and  half  a  guinea  coach  hire,  I 
accidentally  cast  my  eye  on  the  letter  I  had 
to  him,  when  I  saw,  No.  8,  Buckingham 
Street,  Fitzroy  Square."  I  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  at  length  presenting  my  letter  to 
him ;  but,  finding  him  engaged,  I  soon  left 
him,  with  the  promise  to  call  again  in  the 
evening.  At  tea,  met  Newton  and  Bowman 
and  Mason,  with  whom  I  had  a  delightful 
conversation. 

Wednesday^  August  27.  Accompanied 
Leslie  to  the  Royal  Academy,  where  I  found 
many  students  at  their  "  devotions,"  and 
saw  one  of  Raphael's  Cartoons,  with  copies 
of  all  of  them.  I  was  greatly  disappointed 
in  these  renowned  works,  more  particularly 
in  regard  to  their  coloring. 

Thursday^  August  28.  Mr.  Leslie  having 
procured  me  a  ticket  of  admission  to  the 
gallery  of  Mr.  Angerstein,^  I  visited  it, 
and  saw  there  for  the  first  time  an  original 

1  John  Julius  Angerstein,  a  Russian  mercliant  estab- 
lished in  London,  — born  at  St.  Petersburg*  in  1735,  died 
in  1822,  —  distinguished  himself  by  his  liberal  patron- 
age of  the  fine  arts.  After  his  death,  his  collection  of 
paintings  was  purchased  by  the  English  government  for 
£60,000,  as  the  nucleus  of  a  national  gallery.  —  Ameri- 
can Encyclopcedia. 


72 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


Vandyke  :  it  was  masterly  indeed,  and  quite 
equaled  my  expectations.  Saw  many  Ti- 
tians,  which  failed  in  producing  the  same 
gratification ;  saw  also  several  Claudes,  all 
beautiful  aS  Nature  herself.  There  is  here, 
likewise,  a  picture  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus, 
by  one  of  the  old  masters,  which  has  been 
and  still  is  extravagantly  extolled,  and  which 
cost  an  enormous  sum.  Yet,  notwithstand- 
ing its  high  reputation,  and  my  endeavors 
to  admire  it  because  Leslie  pointed  it  out  to 
me,  I  could  not  think,  it  very  fine.  I  shall 
probably  change  my  opinion  of  it  upon  a 
more  extensive  knowledge  of  the  art,  but  I 
would  give  more  for  Mr.  Allston's  unfin- 
ished picture  than  for  a  score  of  such.  Saw 
a  fine  Sir  Joshua,  and  one  of  Wilkie,  —  a 
Scotch  merrymaking;  delighted  with  both, 
as  also  Hogarth's  "  Marriage  a  la  Mode." 

September  1.  Being  my  birthday,  I  had 
Mason  to  dine  with  me.  After  dinner,  we 
went  to  see  the  grand  gallery  of  the  late 
Mr.  West.  From  what  I  had  already  seen 
of  his  works,  I  was  prepared  to  find  his  pic- 
tures quite  inferior  to  what  I  once  fancied 
them,  and  to  the  estimation  of  the  public. 
Owing  to  this  prepossession  I  was  the  more 
agreeably  disappointed.  Death  on  the 
Pale  Horse  "   is  awfully  sublime,  and  I 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


73 


shrank  back  with  horror  when  my  eyes  first 
glanced  upon  it.  There  were  many  others 
that  delighted  me,  many  which  I  thought 
quite  ordinary,  and  some  contemptible.  I 
think  that  he  has  departed  widely  from  na- 
ture in  coloring,  and  that  he  has  carried  his 
classical  ideas  of  the  face  almost  to  a  de- 
formity. If  his  heroes  were  to  walk  out  of 
the  canvas,  and  mingle  in  society,  they  would 
be  found  to  resemble  men  of  our  day  so  lit- 
tle that  they  would  scarcely  be  recognized 
as  human  beings.  He  was  a  great  man- 
nerist. His  last  pictures  afford  evidence  of 
the  decline  of  his  intellectual  powers. 

Tuesday^  /Sej^tember  2.  Commenced  the 
head  of  Mr.  Baldwin  for  myself,  and  found 
that  my  hand  was  a  good  deal  out.  Leslie, 
Newton,  and  others  being  so  curious  to  see 
my  first  picture,  added  not  a  little  to  the 
mingled  feelings  of  doubt  and  confidence, 
hope  and  fear,  which  agitated  and  oppressed 
me. 

Monday^  September  8.  Finished  the  por- 
trait of  Mr.  Baldwin.  Not  entirely  satisfied 
with  it,  but  by  no  means  discouraged ;  for 
I  daily  behold  worse  paintings  than  I  ever 
painted,  even  in  Pittsburgh.  Went  to  Vaux- 
hall  Gardens.  I  had  never  seen  anything 
before  resembling  these  gardens,  and  had  no 


74  CHESTER  HARDING. 


idea  of  the  amusements  they  afford.  Bar- 
jiaby  and  I  went  about  ten  o'clock ;  and,  in 
entering,  took  a  long  alley  that  was  inten- 
tionally left  very  dark,  and  which  opened 
directly  into  the  quietest  part  of  the  garden. 
My  astonishment  upon  leaving  this  dark 
alley  was  indeed  beyond  conception.  There 
were,  I  suppose,  ten  thousand  lamps,  of  va- 
rious colors,  most  tastefully  arranged,  whose 
dazzling  light  bewildered,  and,  for  a  few 
moments,  nearly  blinded  me,  as  they  burst 
upon  me,  in  contrast  to  the  darkness  I  had 
left.    In  the  centre  of  the  principal  part  of 
the  garden  is  an  orchestra  prettily  fitted  up 
with  lamps  and  with  fifty  or  more  per- 
formers ;  there  are  also  beautiful  rotundas 
and  long  promenades.    At  every  other  place 
of  amusement,  such  as  the  theatre,  balls,  etc., 
you  see  some  thoughtful  faces ;  but  here 
every  countenance  is  lit  up  with  smiles, 
which  give  unequivocal  evidence  of  partici- 
pation in  the  enjoyment  and  magic  influ- 
ences of  the  scene.    Splendid  fire  and  water 
works  were  playing  all  the  time.    It  was  to 
me  a  scene  of  such  perfect  enchantment 
that  I  took  no  note  of  time ;  and  it  was  near 
three  o'clock  before  we  left  the  gardens. 

September  9.  At  night,  taken  violently 
ill  of  the  cholera ;  thought  of  having  occa- 


CHESTER  HARDING.  75 


slon  for  an  "  undertaker ;  "  wished  myself 
at  home  a  thousand  times  in  the  course  of  a 
long  and  tedious  night.  The  thought  was 
dreadful  to  me  of  the  possibility  that  I 
might  not  see  home  again :  the  idea  of  dy- 
ing away  from  home  was  horrible.  This 
weakness  did  not  leave  me  until  I  was  out 
of  danger.  Morning  at  length  came,  and  I 
got  once  more  upon  my  feet ;  and,  before 
night,  obtained  relief. 

Thursday^  September  11.  Quite  re- 
covered my  strength.  Began  the  portrait 
of  Captain  Barnaby,  and  walked  about  the 
city. 

Friday^  Septemher  12.  Went  to  see  the 
London  Docks ;  saw  a  wilderness  of  masts  ; 
ships  from  every  quarter  of  the  globe  ;  many 
from  my  own  country,  which  I  looked  upon 
with  uncommon  pride  and  pleasure.  I 
thought  them  infinitely  the  finest  ships  in 
dock.    It  was  a  charming  sight. 

Saturday^  September  13.  Went  with 
Bowman  to  see  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence's  por- 
traits. As  much  pleased  as  on  the  first- 
visit.  His  women  are  angels,  but  his  men 
are  not  so  faultless  by  any  means.  There 
happened  to  be  two  or  three  learned  critics 
making  their  remarks  while  we  were  there. 
It  occurred  to  me,  while  listening  to  these 


76  CHESTER  HARDING, 


gentlemen,  that,  however  excellent  a  painter 
may  be,  it  must  take  a  long  time  to  become 
known  'to  the  world ;  but,  having  once  be- 
come celebrated,  whatever  he  does  is  out  of 
the  reach  of  criticism  :  visitors  go  to  see  his 
works  with  a  predisposition  to  be  pleased 
with  them.  Very  different  is  the  case  with 
the  beginner.  Instead  of  overlooking  the 
faults,  they  are  most  apt  to  overlook  any 
little  merit  the  picture  may  possess,  and 
seem  to  take  great  credit  to  themselves  for 
having  discovered  that  the  pictures  are  not 
perfect ;  but,  happily  for  the  artists,  and 
perhaps  for  the  art,  the  beginner  is  content 
with  a  smaller  share  of  approbation,  as  he 
also  is  content  with  a  small  price  for  his 
first  efforts.  To  criticise  and  praise  judi- 
ciously requires  great  knowledge :  to  find 
fault  is  an  easy  task,  as  no  work  of  genius 
is  perfect.  A  young  painter  needs  the  crit- 
icism of  the  wise,  that  he  may  be  confirmed 
in  what  is  good  in  his  work,  and  not  merely 
to  be  made  to  feel  that  his  work  is  bad. 

Monday^  September  15.  Went  with  Mr. 
and  Miss  Leslie,  and  a  party  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  to  see  the  Dulwich  Gallery. 
This  is  a  splendid  collection.  The  portrait 
of  the  Archduke  Albert,  by  Vandyke,  is 
the  finest  piece  of  art  that  I  have  yet  seen ; 


CHESTER  HARDING.  77 


it  is  very  nearly,  if  not  quite,  perfect ;  the 
shadows  are  so  transparent  that  they  do  not 
appear  at  all  at  first  glance.  The  portrait 
of  Mrs.  Siddons  as  the  Tragic  Muse,  by  Sir 
Joshua,  is  a  fine  picture ;  very  yellow,  per- 
haps too  much  so.  Saw  some  of  Claude's 
fine  landscapes,  and  a  multitude  of  other 
pictures,  such  as  Cuyp,  Poussin,  Titian, 
Rembrandt,  and  some  others,  whose  works 
are  admirable :  but  then  there  are,  as  an 
offset  to  these  beautiful  pieces,  hundreds 
of  inferior  productions,  which  to  my  mind 
are  not  worth  the  trouble  of  preserving, 
though  they  all  in  their  turn  find  admirers. 
Some  will  admire  a  picture  because  it  looks 
old ;  some,  because  it  is  so  dark  nothing  is 
left  to  the  eye,  but  all  to  the  imagination  ; 
others,  for  the  respect  they  have  for  the 
name  of  its  author. 

We  then  went  to  a  beautiful  spot  of  ris- 
ing ground,  about  two  miles  from  Dulwich, 
where  we  could  see  St.  Paul's,  and  many 
other  points  of  London.  We  had  our  for- 
tunes told  by  some  gypsies  on  our  way. 
After  walking  about  until  four  o'clock,  we 
found  ourselves  seated  upon  the  side  of  a 
hill,  with  our  dejeuner^  which  was  previously 
provided,  before  us :  all  ate  as  if  it  were  his 
last  meal.    One  of  the  greatest  pleasures  in 


78  CHESTER  HAULING. 


this  kind  of  feasting  seems  to  be  the  delight- 
ful inconvenience  which  is  unavoidable.  In 
consequence  of  our  choice  of  position,  our 
plates  and  dishes  would  slip  about  in  fine 
style  :  now  a  salt-cellar  would  begin  its  revo- 
lutions down  the  hill;  now  a  glass  of  ale 
would  follow  its  example,  and  perhaps  a 
mustard-pot  w^ould  turn  a  somersault  or 
two ;  in  short,  we  had  every  annoyance  that 
can  be  necessary  to  render  such  an  occasion 
charming.  The  ceremony  of  eating  once 
over,  and  our  legs  straightened  again,  we 
adjourned  to  a  level  spot  of  grass  that  was 
like  velvet,  where  we  commenced  a  dance, 
which  closed  our  amusements. 

Sunday^  September  21.  My  friend  Bar- 
naby  kindly  invited  me  to  spend  a  week 
with  him  at  his  friend's,  in  Oxfordshire ;  so 
we  mounted  to  the  top  of  a  coach,  and,  after 
traveling  four  or  five  hours  in  a  hard  rain, 
we  arrived  at  our  place  of  destination.  The 
captain's  friend,  Mr.  Large,  is  a  gentleman 
farmer  of  some  wealth,  and  much  esteemed 
by  all  classes  of  society.  Here  I  spent  ten 
days,  and  I  must  say  I  never  spent  ten  days 
more  delightfully  in  my  life.  On  the  even- 
ing of  our  arrival,  we  were  invited  to  a 
"  harvest-home  :  "  we  met  about  fifteen  gen- 
tlemen.   When  we  first  entered  the  room,  T 


CHESTER  HARDING.  79 

thought  we  were  in  a  Yankee  bar-room,  so 
full  was  it  of  smoke.  Every  gentleman  had 
his  long  pipe,  that  sent  forth  its  blue  encir- 
cling smoke  most  plentifully.  The  com- 
pany, however,  bore  no  likeness  to  the  class 
that  is  found  haunting  our  bar-rooms  ;  they 
were  mostly  men  of  reading,  and  some  of 
classical  education.  They  were  seated  in  a 
circle  around  a  large  fire,  with  a  small  table 
to  each  three  or  four ;  every  man  had  his 
tumbler  of  hot  toddy,  of  brandy,  rum,  or 
gin,  as  best  pleased  himself ;  and  they  were 
emptied  often  enough  to  keep  the  company 
in  good  heart.  Songs  and  stories  went 
round  in  rapid  succession.  At  twelve 
o'clock  we  sat  down  to  a  plentiful  supper ; 
and  at  two  went  home,  happy  enough.  .  .  . 

Monday.,  September  29.  Now  came  on 
the  most  delightful  sport  in  the  world.  Mr. 
Large  had  invited  about  twenty  ladies  and 
gentlemen  to  take  a  day's  sport,  of  coursing 
the  hare.  This,  I  found,  was  to  show  me 
a  specimen  of  country  sports.  We  went 
into  the  field  in  a  martial  manner,  all  well 
mounted ;  and  we  soon  started  a  hare.  The 
hounds  were  uncoupled,  and  after  the  little 
harmless  creature  they  went  like  lightning, 
and  the  riders  as  close  in  the  chase  as  pos- 
sible.    Here  she  is  !  "  —    There  she  goes ! " 


80  CHESTER  HARDING. 

—  "  Now  we  have  her !  "  —  "  The  hounds 
have  lost  the  scent !  "  —  "  No ;  they  have  it 
again !  "  and  so  on  was  the  cry  for  ten  or 
fifteen  minutes,  when  the  hounds  came  up 
with  her,  and  soon  dispatched  her.  In  the 
course  of  the  day  we  had  seven  or  eight  fine 
courses.  One  could  hardly  say  which  were 
most  excited  by  them,  —  the  horses,  the 
riders,  or  the  dogs.  At  night,  most  of  the 
gentlemen  sat  down  to  a  dinner  prepared 
for  the  occasion,  which  was  a  jollification  in- 
deed. We  stuck  to  the  table  until  three 
o'clock :  we  had  toasts,  songs,  and  a  flood 
of  the  best  wines  the  country  could  afford. 
The  old  parson  was  the  man  last  at  the 
table ;  and,  while  at  it,  would  thump  the 
hardest,  drink  the  hardest,  and  laugh  the 
loudest,  of  all  the  company.  Thus  ended 
my  delightful  visit. 

EXTRACT  FROM  A  LETTER  TO  HON.  S.  F.  LYMAN 
OF  NORTHAMPTON. 

London,  October  10,  1823. 
I  have  just  returned  from  a  Sunday  visit 
in  the  country,  where  I  mixed  with  farming 
gentlemen,  country  squires,  and  clergymen, 
and  a  pleasant  visit  it  was.  They  are  of 
the  class  I  most  wish  to  see.  They  are 
hospitable  and  frank  in  their  manners,  and 


CHESTEE  HARDING, 


81 


mostly  men  of  education,  but  of  little  gen- 
eral knowledge,  —  rich,  though  few  own  the 
land  they  cultivate.  It  is  owned  by  the 
lords  and  gentry,  with  few  exceptions.  The 
gentleman  with  whom  we  stayed  is  a  great 
sheep-grower  and  farmer,  keeps  his  horses 
and  hounds  for  the  accommodation  of  his 
friends,  and  drinks  his  old  port  every  day, 
after  dinner  ;  in  short,  lives  the  kind  of  life 
that  would  not  offend  you  or  me  in  America. 
But,  my  dear  sir,  the  parishes  here  are  made . 
up  of  everything  undesirable  that  the  im- 
agination can  paint.  I  will  not  go  into  de- 
tail, lest  I  tarnish  the  fair  picture  I  have 
just  drawn.  ...  I  laughed  heartily  when 
you  spoke  of  my  qualifications  as  a  traveler, 
and  compared  me  to  the  immortal  Franklin. 
Would  to  God  I  were  worthy  to  be  named 
in  the  same  breath  with  that  great  man ! 

Monday^  October  13.  Went  with  Mason 
to  Westminster  Abbey ;  struck  with  amaze- 
ment at  this  wonderful  pile  ;  the  architec- 
ture is  sublime,  but,  together  with  all  that 
we  associate  with  Westminster  Abbey,  it  is 
impressive  beyond  the  power  of  description. 

Friday^  October  17.  Went  to  Drury 
Lane  Theatre.  In  going  into  the  pit  in  a 
tremendous  crowd,  had  my  pockets  picked 


82  CHESTER  HARDING. 


of  five  pounds :  whoever  took  it  must  have 
been  a  finished  master  in  the  art  and  mys- 
tery of  pocket-picking."  My  purse  was  in 
my  pantaloons'  pocket,  and  it  was  with  great 
difficulty  that  I  could  get  my  own  hand  into 
it ;  but  I  suppose  it  was  fished  out  with 
hooks  that  are  prepared  purposely.  Saw 
Macready  in    Hamlet ;  "  very  great  acting. 

Svnday^  October  19.  At  twelve,  noon, 
reading  by  candle-light.  A  good  deal  afraid 
of  taking  the  small-pox.  I  exchanged  beds 
with  the  child  that  lies  ill  of  it  the  day  be- 
fore the  pox  made  its  appearance  on  her. 

Monday^  October  20.  Had  a  great  dis- 
appointment in  seeing  the  celebrated  Cha- 
peau  de  Paille,"  by  Rubens.  I  thought  it 
had  little,  besides  the  name  of  its  author,  to 
recommend  it  to  the  lover  of  art.  I  think 
it  vastly  overrated  :  had  I  seen  it  in  a  pawn- 
broker's window,  with  the  price  of  five 
pounds  affixed  to  it,  I  am  certain  I  should 
have  passed  it  without  buying.  The  face 
is  out  of  drawing,  and  the  coloring  by  no 
means  to  my  taste.  I  am  almost  sorry  that 
I  saw  it.  By  the  side  of  it,  I  saw  the  half- 
length  portrait  of  an  old  woman  (by  Rem- 
brandt) that  was  living,  I  would  rather 
possess  it  than  a  score  of  the  Chapeau  de 
PaiUe." 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


83 


TTiiirsday,  October  30.  Went  to  see  the 
pictures  by  Sir  Joshua,  and  the  copies  by 
the  young  students  of  London.  Sir  Joshua's 
pictures  are  splendid  :  they  stand  first,  in  my 
estimation,  of  all  modern  art.  Much  is  said 
by  the  artists  of  the  day,  however,  of  their 
bad  drawing  and  fading  colors ;  so  I  must 
take  another  look  or  two  before  I  make  a 
decision.  The  more  I  learn  of  the  system 
of  copying  even  the  greatest  painters,  the 
more  I  disapprove  of  it.  Of  this  I  am  tol- 
erably certain :  that  it  is  very  absurd  to 
put  the  inexperienced  to  copy  these  mas- 
terly productions.  How  these  effects  have 
been  produced  puzzles  the  oldest  and  best 
painters  now  living,  and  to  put  young  schol- 
ars to  copy  these  works  is,  in  my  opinion, 
like  putting  a  boy  to  solve  a  knotty  problem 
in  algebra,  before  he  knows  his  letters  or 
figures.  Had  I  a  friend  beginning  to  paint, 
he  should  not  copy  a  picture  unless  it  were 
to  ascertain  the  colors  that  had  been  used, 
of  which  he  might  be  in  doubt. 

EXTRACT  FROM  A  LETTER  TO  C.  M.  H.  (hIS 

wife). 

London,  November  4,  1823. 
You  cannot  imagine  how  much  I  want 
the  society  of  yourself  and  the  bairns  in  this 


84  CHESTER  HARDING. 


unsocial  world  ;  much  of  my  time  is  spent 
in  solitude.  It  is  not  the  most  desirable  way 
of  living  I  do  assure  you,  yet  it  is  as  others 
live.  You  perhaps  would  like  to  know  what 
my  occupations  and  amusements  are,  and  I 
can  tell  you  in  a  few  words.  My  time  is 
chiefly  spent  between  the  study  of  French, 
history,  and  painting.  My  amusements  are 
the  theatres  and  sometimes,  though  seldom, 
I  kill  an  hour  with  my  friends.  My  prin- 
cipal pleasure  is  in  anticipation.  You  have 
often  heard  me  say  that  our  pleasures  live 
only  in  memory  and  hope,  and  I  do  assure 
you  my  greatest  enjoyment  is  in  the  hope  of 
again  meeting  my  family  and  friends,  and 
of  deserving  and  receiving  that  patronage 
my  countrymen  were  disposed  to  extend  to 
me  before  I  left  America.  But  this  I  am 
well  aware  of,  that  more  will  be  expected 
and  required  of  me  than  was  looked  for  in 
me  before  leaving  my  country ;  in  the  same 
way  as  what  would  be  considered  an  as- 
tonishing effort  in  a  boy  of  fifteen  would  be 
but  feeble  in  a  man  of  thirty. 

You  will  not,  I  hope,  think  from  my  man- 
ner of  writing  that  I  am  discouraged,  for, 
be  assured,  it  is  not  the  case.  I  am  pretty 
well  convinced  that  I  have  nothing  to  un- 
learn :  yet  there  are  many  things  I  have  to 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


85 


guard  against,  the  most  prominent  o£  wliieh 
is  an  artificial  taste,  or  a  kind  of  antiquarian 
madness  which  seems  to  be  very  contagious, 
judging  from  the  number  of  its  victims.  I 
have  met  them  at  different  exhibitions,  where 
I  have  heard  them  praise,  in  the  most  ex- 
travagant manner,  and  without  discrimina- 
tion, the  worst  as  well  as  the  finest  of  the 
works  of  the  old  masters.  I  have  seen  some 
of  these  that  truly  delighted  me,  and  would 
as  soon  quarrel  with  a  connoisseur  for  not 
admiring  these  excellent  works,  as  I  would 
for  his  admiration  of  the  most  indifferent  of 
them.  .  .  . 

I  hope  you  make  good  use  of  the  oppor- 
tunities you  have  of  improving  yourself  in 
useful  knowledge.  You  have  a  double 
charge  in  watching  over  the  actions  and  in- 
clinations of  our  little  ones,  bless  their  souls ! 
in  which  I  am  certain  you  will  not  be  remiss. 

Thursday^  November  13.  Began  the  por- 
trait of  Mr.  Rush. 

November  18.  Finished  it  much  to  my 
own  liking ;  it  is  my  best  head. 

TO  c.  M.  H. 

London,  November  27,  1823. 
•  ,  .  Caroline,  I  never  read  your  letters 


86 


CHESTER  HABDING. 


with  such  interest  before  ;  if  you  knew  the 
pleasure  they  gave  me,  I  am  sure  you  would 
spin  them  out  to  a  great  length  ;  you  can 
mention  nothing  that  will  be  uninteresting, 
coming  from  home  and  you. 

I  am  glad  that  you  are  so  well  pleased 
with  the  family  and  the  society  you  live  in, 
and  beg  you  not  to  waste  your  time  in 
mourning  my  absence,  for  it  may  be  more 
wisely  spent.  I  would  have  you  by  all 
means  enjoy  the  fine  society  you  are  in.  I 
am  glad  to  know  that  you  are  about  to  com- 
mence the  study  of  the  French  language, 
and  I  hope  you  will  make  greater  proficiency 
in  it  than  I  do.  My  head  is  so  full  of  paint- 
ing that,  while  in  England,  I  shall  not  excel 
in  that  elegant  language,  I  fear,  and,  indeed, 
it  is  little  matter  if  I  know  no  other  than 
my  favorite  language,  which  speaks  to  the 
understanding  through  the  sense  of  sight. 

I  have  had  an  introduction  to  Sir  Thomas 
Lawrence,  through  Mr.  Rush,  and  find  him 
a  very  polite,  gentlemanly  man.  He  ex- 
pressed a  wish  to  see  one  of  my  pictures,  and 
promised  to  criticise  it  candidly;  so  a  few 
days  after,  I  carried  him  the  head  of  Mr. 
Rush,  which  I  have  just  finished,  and  my 
own,  for  his  inspection.  He  looked  at  both 
for  some  time,  without  saying  a  word,  during 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


87 


which  time  I  was  in  awful  suspense,  but  at 
length  he  spoke  of  them  in  very  flattering 
terms.  He  asked  in  what  school  I  had  stud- 
ied ;  I  told  him  in  the  Stuart  school.  I 
told  him  this  that  he  need  not  think  I 
wanted  to  pass  for  a  prodigy.  He  then  had 
a  sitter,  so  after  inviting  me  to  call  often 
and  at  all  times,  he  left  me  to  make  such 
comparisons  between  his  and  my  own  pic- 
tures as  I  could.  A  few  nights  after,  I  met 
him  at  the  Academy,  where  he  was  very 
polite.  So  much  for  this  wonderful  man. 
But  I  do  not  think,  after  all,  that  his  heads 
of  men  are  any  better  than  some  of  Mr. 
Stuart's ;  Governor  Strong's  portrait,  for 
instance. 

Monday^  Decemher  8.  Spent  Sunday 
evening  at  Mr.  Rush's,  where  I  met  Mr. 
Owen,  Mr.  Hunter,  and  several  other  coun- 
trymen, as  well  as  a  number  of  Englishmen. 
Was  highly  pleased  with  Mr.  Owen ;  and 
listened  with  deep  interest  for  two  hours  to 
the  conversation  of  Mr.  Rush  and  Mr. 
Owen.  It  ran  chiefly  upon  the  new  system 
of  education  adopted  by  the  latter  at  New 
Lanark.  The  theory  seems  very  feasible, 
and  the  successful  experiments  he  has  made 
at  New  Lanark  leave  little  doubt  of  its  use- 
fulness.   The  system  is  thoroughly  republi- 


88 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


can,  and  Mr.  Owen  says  that  the  United 
States  is  the  half-way  house  "  between  this 
country  and  his  desired  object. 

Wednesday,  December  24.  Mr.  Leslie 
continues  to  be  as  kind  and  friendly  as  ever ; 
he  never  loses  an  opportunity  of  serving  me 
in  any  way.  If  there  are  any  collections  of 
pictures,  or  lectures  on  art,  he  never  fails  of 
gaining  me  admittance,  which  to  me  is  worth 
half  the  city  besides.  He  smuggled  me 
into  Somerset  House  to-day  to  hear  the 
annual  lecture  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence. 
After  a  few  words  of  congratulation  to  those 
who  had  just  received  the  prizes  for  drawing 
and  painting,  the  latter  took  a  broad  and 
general  view  of  aBt,  which  he  treated  in  a 
very  interesting  manner.  He  said  much 
upon  the  comparative  merits  of  modern  mas- 
ters. He  eulogized  Mr.  West  most  highly. 
He  is  the  best  reader,  Lewis  Strong  ex- 
cepted, that  I  have  ever  heard,  and  is  one 
of  the  best  looking  men  in  the  world,  with 
black  or  very  dark  brown  eyes,  and  a  fine, 
white  polished  forehead. 

Thursday,  December  25.  Breakfasted 
with  Hunter.  Met  Mr.  Owen  and  other 
gentlemen.  Mr.  Owen  invited  me  to  dine 
with  him  at  Mr.  John  Smith's,  M.  P.  Here 
I  felt  painfully  embarrassed,  being  conscious 


CHESTER  HARDING.  89 


that  I  was  in  some  measure  the  representa- 
tive of  my  country,  or  that  I  might  be  taken 
as  a  specimen  of  Americans.  The  gentle- 
men present  could  know  nothing  of  my  his- 
tory, and,  of  course,  would  set  me  down  for 
just  what  I  appeared  to  them  :  they  did  not 
even  know  that  I  was  an  artist.  However, 
when  I  could  say  nothing  to  advantage,  I 
listened  attentively ;  and  gained  by  the  con- 
versation, however  much  I  failed  to  contrib- 
ute to  it. 

Sunday^  December  28.  I  am  often  vexed 
to  hear  the  Americans  abuse  Mr.  Hunter  in 
the  manner  they  do.  I  have  spent  much 
time  in  his  company,  and  I  think  him  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  men  I  ever  knew.  He 
left  the  Osage  Indians  about  seven  years  ago, 
and  brought  with  him  none  of  the  vices  in- 
cident to  a  civilized  people.  He  was  raised 
among  the  Indians  from  infancy,  and  knew 
no  other,  nor  wished  for  any  better,  way  of 
obtaining  a  livelihood  than  that  of  chasing 
the  buffalo  and  deer.  Humanity  prompted 
him  to  rescue  a  party  of  whites  whom  the 
Indians  had  doomed  to  destruction,  by  de- 
serting his  party,  coming  over  to  the  whites, 
and  putting  them  on  their  guard.  In  con- 
sequence of  which  he  left  his  tribe  and  all 
the  associations  of  his  youth.    He  first  went 


90 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


to  school  at  the  age  of  nineteen  or  twenty ; 
and  the  proficiency  that  he  has  made  in 
the  various  branches  of  scholastic  education 
proves  the  absurdity  of  the  common  opinion, 
that  a  man  at  twenty  is  too  old  for  studying 
the  sciences,  unless  he  has  had  the  first  prin- 
ciples beat  into  his  head  by  schoolmasters. 
Mr.  Hunter  is  a  good  English  and,  I  am 
told,  a  good  Latin  scholar.  He  is  qualified 
to  practice  physic  ;  he  is  a  good  mathemati- 
cian ;  in  short,  there  is  scarcely  a  branch  of 
science  that  he  has  not  made  some  profi- 
ciency in.  His  society  is  courted  by  the 
great,  partly,  no  doubt,  because  he  is  a 
wonder ;  but  the  very  thing  that  makes  him 
wonderful  is  that  which  reflects  his  greatest 
honor.  I  think  him  an  honor  to  the  country 
that  claims  him,  and  I  am  happy  to  find 
that  he  is  devotedly  attached  to  that  coun- 
try. My  own  want  of  education  I  feel  con- 
stantly, but  with  such  an  example  before  me, 
let  me  not  complain.  If  knowledge  is  worth 
pursuing  I  think  any  man  can  obtain  it. 

January  7,  1824.  Went  last  night  to  the 
theatre ;  saw  Madame  Vestris  in  "  The  Beg- 
gar's Opera."  She  is  one  of  the  most  an- 
gelic singers  on  the  English  stage  ;  but  she 
is  one  of  the  most  abandoned  of  the  female 
race,  given  up  to  every  vice  that  can  tarnish 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


91 


the  female  character  :  the  bare  mention  o£ 
her  name  ought  to  bring  a  blush  upon  the 
cheek  of  modesty.  To  see  such  a  woman 
cheered  and  applauded  by  a  Christian  audi- 
ence is  to  me  an  unaccountable  incongruity. 

January  14.  Began  the  portrait  of  His 
Royal  Highness  the  Duke  of  Sussex.  This 
was  the  first  time  that  I  ever  had  the  honor 
of  seeing  one  of  the  royal  family  ;  and,  of 
course,  my  approach  to  this  august  person- 
age was  marked  by  some  little  palpitations 
of  the  heart :  but  his  affable  manners  placed 
me  entirely  at  my  case.  In  the  course  of  the 
sitting.  His  Royal  Highness  spoke  warmly 
of  America,  and  said  he  felt  a  pleasure  in 
being  painted  by  an  American  artist.  In 
this  country,  it  is  looked  upon  as  a  mark  of 
great  distinction  to  be  allowed  to  paint  one 
of  the  royal  family.  For  this  honor  I  am 
indebted  to  my  friend  Hunter.  The  duke 
is  a  prodigiously  fat  man,  above  six  feet 
high,  of  very  uncommon  features,  but  not 
intellectual. 

Monday^  January  19.  Finished  the  por- 
trait of  the  duke.  He  seems  well  pleased 
with  it,  and  seems  to  take  considerable  in- 
terest in  my  success.  All  who  have  seen  the 
portrait  think  it  the  best  that  ever  was  taken 
of  His  Royal  Highness. 


92 


CHE S  TEE  HAULING, 


His  Highness  gave  me  a  ticket  to  the 
Highland  Society's  dinner,  an  annual  jubilee 
from  time  immemorial.  This  was  the  grand- 
est affair  I  ever  had  the  pleasure  of  witness- 
ing. Some  two  hundred  of  the  Highland 
chiefs  and  lairds,  all  in  their  appropriate 
costume,  were  assembled.  Every  man  wore 
the  plaid  of  his  clan.  There  were  five  or 
six  of  us  in  black  coats  :  we  were  placed  at 
the  foot  of  one  of  the  long  tables,  and  had  a 
fine  view  of  the  company.  Old  and  young 
were  splendidly  dressed,  and  a  gorgeous 
sight  it  was.  After  the  regular  toasts,  such 
as  The  King,"  "  The  Eoyal  Family,"  The 
Ministers,"  and  so  on,  volunteer  toasts  were 
given.  The  Duke  of  Sussex  was  the  pres- 
ident, and  was  addressed  as  the  Earl  of  In- 
verness ;  the  clans  considering  that  title 
higher  than  his  English  one. 

At  intervals,  I  tried  to  make  some  con- 
versation with  my  black-coated  neighbors ; 
but  their  attention  was  apparently  too  much 
absorbed  by  what  was  going  on  at  the  other 
end  of  the  table.  Presently  I  saw  the  duke's 
servant  coming  down  to  our  end  of  the 
table,  and,  approaching  me,  said,  "  His 
Boyal  Highness  will  take  wine  with  you." 
I  rose,  and  His  Royal  Highness  half  rose 
and  bowed.    Such  a  mark  of  distinction 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


93 


was  felt  by  my  taciturn  neighbors.  I  found 
them  sociable  and  very  respectful  after  that. 
As  soon  as  the  dinner  was  dispatched,  the 
bagpipes  were  introduced,  and  the  first  note 
started  the  company  to  their  feet,  and  nearly 
the  whole  assembly  joined  in  the  "High- 
land Fling."  Many  songs  were  sung :  Miss 
Payton,  afterward  Mrs.  Wood,  sang  some 
Scotch  songs  from  the  gallery.  It  was  an 
exciting  scene,  and  continued  till  a  late 
hour.  Some  were  fu',''  and  all  were  "  unco 
happy."  As  the  duke  retired,  he  honored 
me  with  a  shake  of  his  hand. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


January  20,  1824.  Set  off  for  Holkliam, 
Norfolk,  to  paint  the  portrait  of  Mr.  Coke, 
—  a  period  of  great  anxiety. 

January  21.  Arrived  at  Holkham  at 
ten  in  the  evening.  Rang  at  the  door,  and 
was  answered  by  a  footman  in  powder,  who 
announced  me  to  the  next  servant ;  and  my 
name  rang  through  the  long  hall  most  aw- 
fully. One  of  the  head  servants  then  asked 
me  if  I  would  go  to  my  room,  or  be  intro- 
duced to  the  family.  I  chose  the  former. 
Next  morning  I  went  down  to  breakfast 
with  trembling  steps.  As  I  passed  through 
the  long  range  of  splendidly  furnished  apart- 
ments, the  echo  of  the  shutting  doors,  and 
even  my  own  steps  in  these  large  rooms, 
was  frightful ;  and  what  rendered  my  em- 
barrassment greater  was  that  I  had  never 
seen  Mr.  Coke,  and  had  to  introduce  my- 
self. At  length,  however,  I  reached  the 
breakfast  room,  and  was  ushered  into  it. 
There  were  but  a  few  persons  in  the  room, 
and  neither  Mr.  Coke  nor  Lady  Anne  were 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


95 


present.  They  soon  came  in,  and  broke  the 
painful  silence  I  was  constrained  to  observe. 
We  soon  were  seated  at  table  to  the  number 
of  five  and  twenty  ladies  and  gentlemen,  the 
latter  in  their  shooting  dresses.  Here  I  felt 
a  little  awkward,  as  the  table  arrangements 
were  very  different  from  any  I  had  seen. 
In  the  centre  of  the  room  was  placed  a 
long  table,  around  which  the  company  were 
seated;  and  side-tables,  loaded  with  cold 
meats  and  cold  game,  were  resorted  to  by 
any  one  who  wished  for  flesh  or  fowl.  It 
struck  me  at  first  as  being  a  queer  sort  of 
hospitality  not  to  be  asked  to  take  this  or 
that,  but  left  to  help  myself  or  go  without. 
Each  calls  for  coffee,  tea,  or  chocolate,  as 
he  fancies,  without  being  asked  which  he 
prefers.  After  breakfast,  I  joined  the  shoot- 
ing party  :  we  set  off  in  terrible  array,  with 
guns,  dogs,  and  game  -  keepers  ;  the  older 
gentlemen  mounted  on  horseback.  In  the 
course  of  the  day,  I  shot  about  a  dozen  in 
all,  —  pheasants,  partridges,  and  hares  :  and 
was  withal  excessively  fatigued.  They  never 
shoot  at  game  at  rest.  If  a  hare  should 
stand  in  fair  view  within  their  shot,  they 
would  start  him  and  shoot  as  he  ran.  In 
like  manner  they  warn  the  birds  of  their 
danger.    At  six,  we  sat  down  to  a  sumptuous 


96  CHESTER  HARDING. 


dinner.  The  very  men  with  whom  I  had 
been  shooting  and  conversing  freely  all  day 
had  so  changed  the  "outer  man,"  by  throw- 
ing off  their  shooting  habiliments,  and  put- 
ting on  their  finery,  that  I  hardly  recognized 
a  single  face  at  table.  Every  dish  was  of 
silver,  gold  knives  and  forks  for  dessert, 
and  everything  else  about  the  table  of  corre- 
sponding costliness.  The  ladies  retired  about 
eight ;  and  the  gentlemen,  with  a  few  ex- 
ceptions, gathered  around  a  smaller  table, 
and  sat  until  nine,  and  then  joined  the  ladies 
and  took  coffee.  After  coffee,  some  of  the 
company  retire  to  their  rooms  ;  others  to 
side-tables  to  write  letters  ;  and  such  as  have 
nothing  else  to  do  play  whist  or  chess,  or 
some  other  games,  until  ten,  when  a  supper 
is  served  up  on  a  side-table,  where  the  com- 
pany stand,  and  eat  or  drink  what  they 
wish.  After  supper,  one  after  another  calls 
for  a  bedroom  candle,  and  goes  to  his  room. 
None  stop  later  than  eleven  o'clock. 

January  23.  Began  the  portrait  of  Mr. 
Coke,  after  which  I  amused  myself  by  saun- 
tering about  the  gallery.  I  found  many 
excellent  paintings,  a  fine  statue  gallery,  and 
a  splendid  library.  Mr.  Coke  is  said  to 
have  one  of  the  finest  manuscript  libraries 
in  the  kingdom. 


CHESTER  HARDING.  97 


The  furniture  of  this  house  is  in  the  most 
extravagant  style.  Lady  Anne  showed  me 
the  state  rooms^  bedrooms,  etc.,  which  are 
magnificent.  The  bed-curtains  of  one  of 
the  beds  cost  eight  guineas  a  yard  ;  the  rest 
of  the  furniture  was  equally  costly.  All 
the  principal  rooms  are  hung  with  tapestry. 
I  had  no  idea  of  the  wealth  of  an  English 
gentleman  until  I  came  here.  Mr.  Coke 
owns  seventy  thousand  acres  of  productive 
land. 

Mr.  Coke  is  now,  and  always  has  been,  an 
ardent  admirer  of  America.  He  was  the 
first  to  propose  the  recognition  of  our  inde- 
pendence in  the  House  of  Commons.  He 
is  seventy-two  years  old,  but  retains  all  the 
mental  vigor  of  a  man  of  forty.  He  has, 
within  two  years,  married  a  young  wife  of 
eighteen  ;  and  has  by  her  a  fine  son  to  prop 
and  support  his  declining  years,  and  to  in- 
herit his  large  estates. 

Wednesday^  January  28.  Commenced 
the  portrait  of  Lady  Anson,  a  daughter 
of  Mr.  Coke,  —  upon  a  small  scale.  We 
breakfast  at  ten,  lunch  at  two ;  and  at  six 
the  party  assemble  in  the  drawing-room, 
in  full  dress,  for  dinner.  Mr.  Coke  leads 
the  lady  of  highest  rank  first ;  then  follows 
the  highest  titled  gentleman  with  Lady 


98 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


Anne,  and  tlie  rest  fall  in  according  to  rank 
or  seniority.  I  am  a  good  deal  bothered 
with  the  titles  v/e  have  here.  "  Your  lady- 
ship "  and  ^'  Your  lordship "  do  not  slip 
readily  from  my  tongue. 

There  is  great  splendor  in  the  dinner  ser- 
vice, as  well  as  in  the  attendants  at  table, 
of  whom  there  are  eight  or  ten  in  powdered 
livery  as  well  as  two  out  of  livery,  —  the 
one,  the  butler ;  the  other,  a  sort  of  master 
of  ceremonies. 

There  is  a  large  bell  in  one  of  the  towers 
of  the  hall,  which  is  rung  to  announce  the 
hours  of  breakfasting  and  dining.  After 
breakfast,  each  lady  goes  to  her  room  ;  and 
she  enjoys  entire  freedom  as  to  the  disposi- 
tion of  her  time  during  the  day.  Some 
order  their  carriages  or  horses,  and  drive  or 
ride  around  the  park.  The  gentlemen  al- 
ways go  out  shooting,  unless  they  are  pre- 
vented by  bad  weather. 

Friday.^  30.  Finished  the  portrait  of  Mr. 
Coke.  The  family  are  highly  pleased  with 
it.  Began  the  portrait  of  Lady  Andover's 
daughter.  Mr.  Adair,  one  of  our  visitors, 
has  been  ambassador  at  Constantinople,  — 
a  very  pleasant  gentleman. 

Mr.  Coke  is  most  decidedly  American  in 
his  feelings  :  he  often  says  it  is  the  only 


CHESTER  HARDING.  99 


country  where  one  spark  of  freedom  is  kept 
alive  ;  and  he  regrets  very  much  not  having 
gone  over  at  the  termination  of  the  revolu- 
tionary struggle,  that  he  might  have  seen 
the  brightest  character  that  ever  adorned  the 
page  of  history. 

Friday  night,  some  itinerant  jugglers  came 
to  the  Hall  to  amuse  the  family.  Their  per- 
formance was  indifferent  enough ;  but  it 
was  interesting  to  see  the  household  col- 
lected. There  were  about  seventy  domes- 
tics. After  the  performance,  Mr.  Coke  told 
the  steward  to  give  them  a  couple  of  guineas, 
and  send  them  away. 

Fehriiary  1.  Commenced  the  portrait 
of  Mr.  Blakie,  Mr.  Coke's  steward,  on  the 
kit-cat  size,  at  thirty  guineas. 

Lady  Anson  has  a  most  benevolent  heart ; 
she  spends  much  of  her  time,  and  a  good 
deal  of  her  money,  amongst  the  poor  and 
destitute  of  the  neighboring  village.  Mr. 
Coke  has  very  humanely  provided  for  the 
servants  who  have  grown  gray  in  his  service, 
by  building  them  neat  little  cottages  near 
the  Hall,  with  a  small  piece  of  ground  at- 
tached for  a  garden  ;  and,  in  some  instances, 
he  has  given  a  pension  for  life.  They  seem 
as  happy  as  men  can  be  in  this  life.  They 
are  seen  every  day  about  three  o'clock  walk- 


100 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


ing  up  to  the  Hall  for  their  dinners.  They, 
with  the  steward  and  a  few  other  of  the 
upper  servants,  dine  together  as  sumptuously 
as  their  master. 

London.,  February  28.  Went  to  the  Ital- 
ian Opera  House  to  witness  the  performance 
of  a  grand  oratorio.  Madame  Catalani  was 
the  principal  attraction;  the  power  of  her 
voice  far  surpasses  that  of  any  singer  I  ever 
heard  before.  Besides  sacred  pieces,  which 
she  gave  to  admiration,  she  sung  "  God  save 
the  King  "  and  "  Rule  Britannia  ;  "  and  she 
so  riveted  my  attention  that  I  knew  not 
what  I  did.  I  shouted  "Rule  Britannia," 
,  etc.,  as  loud  and  as  loyally  as  the  best  Eng- 
lishman present.  There  were  one  hundred 
and  forty  performers,  vocal  and  instru- 
mental. The  house  is  magnificent ;  there 
are  four  rows  of  boxes,  all  hung  with  red 
curtains,  and  splendidly  upholstered. 

On  Thursday  night  I  received  a  ticket 
from  the  Duke  of  Sussex  to  attend  a  dinner 
in  support  of  old  and  indigent  Jews,  and 
for  the  education  of  the  young ;  the  duke  in 
the  chair.  There  were  about  two  hundred 
present.  After  the  cloth  was  removed,  and 
the  usual  toasts  drunk  and  speeches  ma.de, 
the  school  of  children  was  introduced  to  the 
number  of  fifty.    Each  had  some  specimen 


CHESTER  HARDING,  101 


of  his  skill  in  mechanics  in  his  hand,  a  chair 
or  shoes,  etc.  One  of  the  little  girls,  about 
eight  years  old,  and  of  most  interesting  ap- 
pearance, recited  a  piece  of  poetry  which 
had  been  written  for  the  occasion.  The 
lines  were  full  of  pathos,  and  delivered  with 
astonishing  force.  This  little  manoeuvre 
had  a  most  powerful  effect  upon  the  com- 
pany. The  duke  rose  to  speak ;  but  his 
heart  was  so  touched  that  he  could  not  give 
utterance  to  his  thoughts.  Tears  ran  down 
his  cheeks  in  a  flood.  He  at  length  regained 
his  self-possession,  and  spoke  very  feelingly, 
which  had  the  effect  desired,  —  it  drew 
tears  from  the  audience,  but  not  such  as  the 
duke  shed ;  these  were  from  the  purse  in- 
stead of  the  eye.  Twenty -three  hundred 
guineas  were  collected. 

The  Duke  of  Sussex  is  a  much  better 
speaker  than  his  brother  York,  whom  I 
heard  at  the  "  Theatrical  Fund  "  dinner ; 
but  he  is  not  an  eloquent  nor  a  strong- 
minded  man.  His  goodness  of  heart,  how- 
ever, makes  ample  amends  for  all  want  of 
brilliancv. 

Monday,  March  15.  Went  to  the  House 
of  Lords ;  and,  through  the  kindness  of  the 
Duke  of  Sussex,  was  fortunate  enough  to 
get  a  front  seat^  on  the  foot  of  the  throne, 


102  CHESTER  HARDING. 


—  a  place  set  apart  for  the  sons  of  noble- 
men and  foreign  ambassadors.  The  debate, 
npon  the  recognition  of  the  independence  of 
South  America,  was  extremely  interesting. 
The  Marquis  of  Lansdowne  was  the  mover 
of  the  question,  and  he  supported  it  most 
ably  and  eloquently ;  but,  as  it  was  a  party 
question,  his  eloquence  was  in  vain  :  the  mo- 
tion was  lost  by  a  large  majority.  The  house 
is  as  uninteresting  within  as  it  is  without. 
The  custom  of  seating  the  lord  chancellor 
on  the  woolsack  is  too  ridiculous  and  bar- 
barous for  the  present  stage  of  civilization. 
There  are  three  sacks,  about  ten  feet  in 
length,  two  feet  high,  and  perhaps  four  feet 
wide,  so  put  together  as  to  form  three  sides 
of  a  square  ;  the  lord  chancellor  sits  on  the 
centre  sack,  the  clerks  on  the  others.  The 
wigs  which  the  lords  wear  are  still  less 
dignified  in  their  appearance. 

TO  c.  M.  H. 

London,  March,  1824. 
.  .  .  This  is  to  me  a  most  interesting 
period  as  you  will  readily  imagine,  when  I 
tell  you  that  to-morrow  is  the  day  for  send- 
ing my  portraits  for  exhibition.  You  know, 
already,  the  pictures  I  have  painted  for  that 
purpose,  namely,  the  duke,  Coke,  Perkins, 


CHESTER  HARDING,  103 


Hunter,  Rush,  and  Owen,  some  of  which  I 
intend  to  send  to  the  new  Exhibition  in 
Pall  Mall,  which  opens,  for  the  first  time 
this  season,  under  the  patronage  of  the  Duke 
of  Sussex.  As  many  of  my  sitters  have  sat 
frequently  to  different  artists,  and  have  at 
different  times  been  exhibited,  I  may  fairly 
calculate  upon  a  little  jealousy  and  a  great 
deal  of  severe  criticism  from  the  artists 
themselves,  or  their  friendly  or  hireling  crit- 
ics. There  is  to  be  a  likeness  of  the  duke 
by  Lonsdale,  a  full  length  in  his  Coronation 
Robes,  in  the  new  Exhibition,  which  will 
bring  me  in  direct  contact  with  him :  at  the 
same  time  it  will  give  him  the  advantage, 
"  as  fine  feathers  make  fine  birds."  Mr. 
Coke  has  been  painted  by  Sir  Thomas  Law- 
rence, as  well  as  by  Lonsdale  and  a  score 
of  other  painters.  But  why  borrow  trouble 
or  be  anxious?  Why  tease  myself  about 
what  is  out  of  my  control  ?  Ought  I  in  rea- 
son to  expect  to  have  my  pictures  stand  the 
comparison  with  these  old  practitioners  ? 
Whatever  I  may  aim  at  ultimately,  I  should 
deceive  myself  did  I  for  an  instant  suppose 
my  pictures  equal  to  those  of  the  first  artists 
in  London. 


Saturday,  April  10.    Breakfasted  with 


104 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


Mr.  Owen.  Pie  is  very  confident  of  success 
in  his  attempts  at  universal  reform.  He  is 
plain  in  his  appearance,  and  simple  in  his 
manners,  but  strong  in  argument. 

Monday^  April  19.  Went  with  Mr. 
Neale  and  Mr.  Humphries  to  Greenwich 
Fair,  about  six  miles  from  town.  We  got 
into  a  boat  at  Westminster  Bridge  and  had 
a  most  charming  sail  down  the  Thames. 
Some  thousands  of  town  and  country  folks 
were  assembled,  and  enjoying  themselves  in 
every  variety  of  way.  In  addition  to  the 
Smithfield  amusements,  they  have  a  singular 
mode  of  amusing  themselves  by  rolling  down 
a  very  steep  and  grassy  hill :  boys  and  girls 
are  seen  rolling  and  tumbling  together  in 
every  direction  and  position. 

The  grand  Hospital  for  Decayed  Seamen 
is  situated  here.  The  building  itself  is  ex- 
tremely beautiful,  and  the  effect  is  enhanced 
by  the  river  which  washes  one  side  of  the 
grand  area ;  the  surrounding  landscape,  har- 
monizing so  well  with  the  whole,  renders 
the  scene  enchanting.  It  is  delightful,  too, 
to  know  that  two  thousand  invalids  are  shar- 
ing a  nation's  gratitude.  One  sees  content- 
ment reigning  in  the  faces  of  hundreds  who 
are  deprived  of  half  their  limbs.  They  are 
w^ell-fed  and  well-clad,  in  a  half -military  uni- 
form. 


CHESTER  HARDING.  105 


Monday^  April  26.  Commenced  the  por- 
trait of  Mr.  Henry  Anson.  Delightful 
weather.  Sunday  called  with  Hunter  upon 
the  Duke  of  Sussex.  He  was  very  polite 
and  kind.  Mr.  Hunter  and  I  took  a  long 
walk,  and  thought  and  talked  about  our 
country ;  compared  it  to  England :  the  re- 
sult was  favorable  to  the  land  of  our  birth. 
In  the  course  of  our  rambling,  we  got  into 
a  boat,  and  floated  with  the  tide  from  the 
Waterloo  Bridge  to  the  Iron  Bridge.  On 
the  Thames  we  had  a  most  beautiful  view 
of  the  city.  The  sun  was  just  setting,  but 
still  shone  bright  upon  St.  Paul's  stupendous 
dome,  and  some  other  prominent  points  of 
the  city,  such  as  Somerset  House,  the  Adel- 
phi,  etc. ;  and,  as  we  floated  along  under 
the  several  bridges,  which  never  look  so 
strikingly  grand  as  when  seen  from  beneath, 
we  concluded  it  would  be  many  years  before 
our  country  could  boast  such  monuments  of 
art.  In  viewing  Waterloo  Bridge,  we  were 
led  to  speak  of  the  event  which  this  stupen- 
dous work  perpetuates  ;  from  that,  to  the 
captivity  of  Napoleon  ;  of  the  indelible  stain 
that  event  has  cast  upon  the  great  conqueror 
of  the  age,  —  what  magnanimity  he  had  it 
in  his  power  to  show  by  treating  this  once 
powerful  but  now  fallen  foe  like  a  Christian, 


106  CHESTER  HARDING. 


instead  of  dooming  him  to  waste  his  life  in 
exile  like  a  pirate. 

Tliursday^  April  29.  Dined  with  Mr. 
Everett ;  met  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Appleton  and 
others ;  a  pleasant  party. 

Spring  is  now  opening,  and  all  nature 
seems  to  smile  again ;  fruit  -  trees  in  full 
blossom.  How  delightful  to  the  eye,  after 
being  shut  up  in  fog  and  smoke  for  six 
months,  to  see  the  green  fields  once  more 
displaying  their  charms !  But  spring  ap- 
proaches so  gradually  here  that  one  does 
not  feel  that  pleasure  which  one  feels  in  the 
Northern  States  of  America,  where  the  tran- 
sition from  snow  to  verdure  is  so  quick,  that, 
before  one  can  say  spring  approaches,  it  is 
already  arrived.  How  delightful  to  meet 
old  and  intimate  friends  in  a  foreign  land ! 
Dr.  Bobbins  and  wife  and  Miss  Pickard, 
who  have  just  arrived,  make  me  forget  that 
I  am  in  a  strange  country. 

Saturday^  May  1.    Began  the  portrait  of 

the  Kev.  ,  recommended  by  Leslie.  He 

is  a  country  clergyman ;  and,  from  his  J ew- 
ing  disposition,  I  should  judge  he  had  more 
taste  in  tithes  than  pictures.  He  spent  at 
least  one  hour  of  his  precious  life  in  a  fruit- 
less attempt  to  lower  my  price. 

I  feel  myself  improving  in  every  picture 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


107 


I  paint.  Nine  tenths  of  the  pictures  that  are 
painted  in  London  are  execrably  bad. 

Monday.,  May  3.  Somerset  House  opened 
this  day.  This  is  a  grand  display  altogether. 
Portraiture  is  the  branch  of  art  in  which 
the  English  School  stands  preeminent.  Sir 
Thomas  Lawrence,  Jackson,  Shee,  Phillips, 
Sir  William  Beechy,  and  one  or  two  others, 
stand  high ;  but  Sir  Thomas  towers  above 
them  all.  In  the  small  cabinet  pictures, 
after  Wilkie,  Leslie  stands  first.  His  pic- 
ture of  Sancho  Panza  in  the  apartment 
of  the  duchess  is  a  beautifully  told  story, 
and  commands  great  admiration.  He  de- 
voted six  months  of  hard  study  to  it,  and 
it  was  time  well  spent.  Newton  has  a  very 
clever  picture  of  the  Patient  in  spite  of 
Himself,"  which  evinces  more  talent  than  in- 
dustry in  the  author.  He  affects  a  contempt 
for  the  minutiae  of  his  pictures,  and,  instead 
of  giving  them  an  agreeable  finish,  leaves 
them  undetermined  in  the  outline,  and  un- 
finished in  effect.  My  own  portraits  do  not 
look  as  well  as  I  thought  they  would :  they 
want  the  broad  effect  so  necessary  in  this 
exhibition.  On  going  into  the  room,  I 
v/ished  there  was  to  be  another  exhibition 
immediately,  that  I  might  shun  the  defects 
in  my  next  that  I  saw  so  plainly  in  these. 


108 


CHESTER  HAEDING, 


The  greatest  advantage  I  shall  derive  from 
this  exhibition  is  the  opportunity  of  compar- 
ing myself  with  others.  It  was  sickening, 
on  first  going  into  the  room,  to  see  some  of 
my  pictures  so  badly  placed  ;  but,  on  a  little 
reflection,  I  thought  I  was  placed  as  well  as 
I  deserve. 

TO  s.  F.  L. 

London,  May  10, 1824. 
This  is  a  lovely  season,  all  the  gayety  of 
the  kingdom  is  now  in  full  bloom  ;  the  parks 
and  gardens  are  green  and  inviting.  It  is 
one  of  the  most  delightful  walks  in  the  world 
to  go  into  Hyde  Park  and  Kensington  Gar- 
dens at  this  time  of  year.  It  is  the  fashion 
here  to  go  to  the  Park  every  day  at  five  or 
six  o'clock  and  make  as  great  a  show  as  pos- 
sible. Those  who  keep  their  carriages  never 
fail  of  displaying  them,  and  those  who  do 
not,  figure  as  pedestrians  only.  It  is  about 
a  mile  from  one  side  of  the  Park  to  the 
other,  —  I  mean  the  part  which  is  most  fre- 
quented. There  is  a  graveled  way  for  the 
carriages  and  horses,  by  the  side  of  which 
is  a  beautiful  hard  gravel  walk  for  those  on 
foot,  divided  from  that  for  the  carriages  by 
a  railing.  There  are  from  one  to  two  thou- 
sand elegant  carriages  at  the  same  time,  in 


CHESTER  HARDING.  109 


this  fashionable  procession,  in  fine  weather, 
and  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  thousand  peo- 
ple of  all  countries,  ages,  sexes,  and  colors, 
promenading  the  foot -walk,  or  sauntering 
across  the  green.  But  upon  retiring  from 
this  show  to  my  own  room  and  to  serious  re- 
flection, I  am  always  struck  with  the  folly 
of  this  gay  rabble,  and  it  never  fails  to 
create  a  longing  for  home  and  those  happy 
scenes  in  domestic  life,  which  the  world  of 
fashion  are  strangers  to. 

I  go  every  day  to  the  different  galleries 
and  am  both  delighted  and  instructed.  My 
own  pictures  in  Somerset  House  are  not  in 
a  favorable  light,  but  that  I  expected.  My 
friends,  Leslie  and  others,  say  they  are  en- 
titled to  better  places,  which  is  some  con- 
solation. 

...  I  do  not  doubt  if  I  were  to  remain 
here  I  could  establish  a  permanent  character 
as  a  painter,  and  here,  of  all  places  in  the 
world,  is  the  artist  best  paid  for  his  labors. 
But,  if  I  could  in  five  years  rise  to  be  Pres- 
ident of  the  British  Academy  with  a  "  Sir  " 
tacked  upon  my  name,  I  would  not  forego 
the  pleasure  of  living  in  America. 

May  13.  Obtained  a  ticket  of  admission 
to  the  Marquis  of  Stafford's  collection,  which 


110  CHESTER  HARDING. 


admits  me  every  Wednesda}^  of  this  and 
next  month.  A  fine  collection,  containing 
many  of  the  old  masters. 

Jlonday^  May  17.  In  the  evening,  went 
to  the  opera ;  saw  a  part  of  an  Italian  opera, 
and  an  English  afterpiece.  In  the  course 
of  the  evening  Madame  Catalani  sung  three 
songs,  which  were  delightful,  and  of  course 
were  encored.  The  entrance  to  the  house 
is  in  the  Haymarket ;  and,  an  hour  before 
the  doors  opened,  the  rush  was  so  great  that 
I  really  thought  my  life  in  danger,  women 
screaming,  men  swearing  and  fighting.  My 
friend  Barnaby  and  I  took  our  seats  in  the 
pit ;  and,  as  we  were  waiting  for  the  per- 
formance to  begin,  we  were  standing  upon 
the  benches,  when  an  insolent  fellow  crowded 
between  us,  or  rather  crowded  the  captain 
out  of  his  seat.  As  the  captain  was  a  small 
man,  I  took  the  liberty  of  hoisting  the  in- 
truder out  pretty  roughly.  Nothing  but  my 
size  saved  me  from  a  row. 

Thursday,20,  Dined  with  Mr.  Bowker. 
Met  several  gentlemen  of  the  bar  ;  also  Mr. 
Cox,  a  very  amusing  poet  ;  heard  many 
pleasing  anecdotes.  Before  dinner  went  to 
see  the  grand  display  of  gentry  and  nobil- 
ity. This  was  the  grand  drawing-room  of 
the  palace  of  St.  J ames.  A  line  of  carriages 


CHESTER  HARDING.  Ill 


stretched  from  the  foot  of  St.  James  Street 
to  the  top  of  Bond  Street,  all  in  their  grand- 
est trappings.  I  crowded  my  way,  or  rather 
was  forced  down  by  the  current,  to  the  bot- 
tom of  St.  James,  where  I  stood  for  a  half 
hour  looking  on  like  the  rest  of  the  aston- 
ished multitude.  The  courtiers  would  in 
the  most  condescending  manner  allow  the 
crowd  to  see  them  through  the  windows  of 
their  carriages,  whilst  their  faces  seemed  to 
express  the  greatest  contempt  for  the  ple- 
beian rabble.  I  felt  a  good  deal  vexed,  but 
relieved  myself,  as  soon  as  the  crowd  al- 
lowed me  to  withdraw  from  a  place  where 
I  should  have  been  ashamed  to  have  been 
seen  by  any  of  my  acquaintances. 

June  5.  A  call  from  Mr.  Coke,  the  Duke 
of  Norfolk,  and  General  Fitzroy.  This  at- 
tention on  the  part  of  Mr.  Coke  is  most 
gratifying. 

TO  c.  M.  H. 

London,  June  7,  1824. 

Dear  Wife,  —  The  long-looked-f or  letter 
has  at  last  reached  me  ;  indeed,  I  had  begun 
to  be  very  impatient.  You  will  hardly  be- 
lieve me  when  I  tell  you  that  when  I  opened 
your  letter  and  saw  the  token  of  affection 
from  little  Caroline,  my  heart  grew  very 


112  CHESTER  HABLING. 


restless,  and  I  have  no  doubt  my  face  was 
colorless  for  a  moment.  I  don't  know  how 
it  is,  but  I  never  open  a  letter  from  home 
without  a  slight  emotion  of  the  heart ;  nor 
is  that  emotion  quieted  until  I  read  the 
cheerful  words,  "  We  are  all  well."  .  .  . 

You  are  anxious,  no  doubt,  to  know  how 
I  am  getting  on  in  pecuniary  matters.  I 
can  tell  you  that  it  costs  me  full  twice  the 
sum  to  live  here  that  I  had  calculated  on, 
but  so  long  as  I  can  keep  the  original  stock 
(of  money)  whole  I  feel  no  uneasiness  on 
that  score.  I  have  some  portraits  all  the 
while  on  hand,  and  were  I  to  attend  more 
to  the  sAop  and  less  to  the  exhibitions,  I 
doubt  not  but  I  could  find  as  much  business 
as  I  could  do.  But  as  money-making  was 
not  the  object  of  my  visit,  so  long  as  I  can 
see  my  way  clear,  I  shall  not  sacrifice  the 
advantages  this  metropolis  affords  for  the 
accumulation  of  a  little  trash  that  at  pres- 
ent I  do  not  stand  in  need  of.  I  mean  the 
little  I  could  accumulate  in  the  short  time 
I  shall  stay  in  this  country  would  be  trash 
compared  with  the  stock  of  mental  riches 
that,  with  a  moderate  share  of  industry,  I 
might  treasure  up.  .  .  . 

Yesterday  I,  with  a  friend,  got  on  a  coach 
and  went  to  Richmond,  a  place  about  seven 


CHESTER  HARDING.  113 


miles  from  here,  which  has  long  been  cele- 
brated for  its  beautj^  of  scenery.  But,  upon 
my  soul,  I  could  not  find  anything  particu- 
lar to  admire  but  the  cultivation  and  the 
appearances  of  comfort  in  the  dwellings,  as 
we  walked  about  them.  You  are  now  living 
in  a  place  a  thousand  times  more  beautiful 
(Northampton,  Mass.),  and  as  to  grandeur  of 
scenery  there  is  no  comparison.  But  art 
has  made  up  the  deficiencies  of  nature.  Cul- 
tivation is  brought  to  a  very  great  degree  of 
perfection  here.  It  will  be  many  years  be- 
fore we  can  vie  with  this  country  in  that 
particular,  and  I  must  say  it  will  be  a  long 
time  before  I  shall  wish  to  do  so.  This 
show  is  at  the  expense  of  nine  tenths  of  the 
inhabitants,  perhaps  ninety-nine  hundredths. 
Yet  if  contentment  be  riches,  the  lower 
order  of  peasantry  are  rich.  I  never  saw 
any  wrangling  in  all  the  various  mobs  which 
I  have  seen  collected  on  different  occasions. 
There  seems  to  be  in  these  lower  orders  a 
social  and  friendly  disposition,  which  I  am 
sorry  to  say  does  not  exist  in  our  country. 
There,  on  such  days  as  an  Election  or  Gen- 
eral Review,  the  lower  classes  of  society  con- 
sider themselves  licensed  to  get  drunk,  and 
render  themselves  as  beastly  as  possible  ; 
and  I  hardly  remember  an  instance  of  a  holi- 


114 


CHESTER  HABDING. 


day  of  the  kind  to  pass  over,  without  a  fight 
and  sometimes  a  dozen  of  them.  I  have 
not,  while  I  have  been  in  this  country,  seen 
anything  in  the  streets,  at  the  fairs,  or  any 
other  place  of  amusement  for  the  peasantry, 
that  looked  like  ill-will  toward  each  other. 
If  I,  in  passing  the  crowd  in  the  streets,  hap- 
pen to  run  against  a  boy,  or  tread  upon  his 
foot  (which  you  know  could  not  be  a  gentle 
pressure),  he  directly  pulls  off  his  hat  and 
begs  pardon,  or  at  least  makes  no  complaint. 
Not  so  at  home.  If  one  happens  to  en- 
croach upon  the  rights  of  one  of  our  repub- 
lican boys  in  any  degree,  he  lets  fly  a  volley 
of  mud  rockets  at  you,  and  damns  your  eyes 
up  and  down. 

Tell  Caroline  that  she  is  a  good  little  girl 
for  thus  remembering  her  father,  and  that 
I  thank  her  for  the  little  lock  she  sent  me. 
Assure  the  rest  of  the  little  ones  that  they 
are  not  forgotten  by  me.  Give  my  kind  re- 
gards to  all  my  friends,  and  believe  me 
Your  affectionate  husband, 

C.  Harding. 

Monday  J  June  14.  Went  with  Mr.  Ever- 
ett and  family  to  Epsom  Races.  This  was  a 
grand  affair ;  great  crowd  of  vehicles  of  all 
sorts  from  a  barouche  down  to  a  donkey- 


CHESTER  HARDING.  115 


cart.  We  had  our  dinner  with  us,  as  is  the 
custom  with  all,  and  a  most  sumptuous  one 
it  was,  —  cold  turkeys,  chickens,  champagne, 
etc. 

Mr.  Coke  was  at  Somerset  House,  looking 
about  without  a  catalogue,  and  pronounced 
the  portrait  of  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  by 
Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  and  the  portrait  of 
Mr.  Owen,  by  myself,  to  be  the  best  in  the 
room,  —  so  says  Lady  Anson.  This  pleased 
me  much ;  at  the  same  time  I  knew  he  was 
not  correct ;  but  such  is  the  insatiable  de- 
sire that  man  has  for  distinction,  that  he  is 
willing  to  give  ear  to  the  most  extravagant 
flattery,  and  will  try  hard  to  reconcile  it  to 
himself,  however  absurd  it  may  be. 

Sunday^  June  20.  Attended  divine  ser- 
vice at  Westminster  Abbey.  The  sermon 
may  have  been  well  or  ill,  it  was  all  the  same 
to  me ;  my  mind  was  completely  absorbed 
in  matters  foreign  to  religious  instruction. 
Yet  I  never  in  my  life  felt  so  sensibly  the 
true  sublimity  of  religion  as  I  did  while 
gazing  on  this  wondrous  pile.  The  organ 
fills  one  with  devotional  feelings ;  and  it  is 
impossible  to  look  at  the  monuments  and 
grandeur  of  architecture  that  surround  one, 
without  an  elevation  of  feeling  which  bids 
earthly  thoughts  stand  aside. 


116  CHESTER  HARDING. 


Siniday^  June  27.  Yet  in  doubt,  whether 
it  is  my  duty  to  stay  another  year  in  this 
country,  or  go  home  to  my  family  and 
friends.  Life  is  short  at  best:  then  why 
not  spend  it  in  a  way  that  will  be  most  con- 
ducive to  our  happiness  while  here  ?  I  have 
duties  to  perform  towards  my  wife  and  four 
helpless  children :  ought  I  not,  then,  to  live 
with  them,  and  discharge  those  duties? 
These  and  the  like  thoughts  are  constantly 
haunting  my  mind.  But  then,  I  have  made 
choice  of  a  profession  in  which  I  am  most 
anxious  and  determined  to  excel.  The  charm 
of  distinction  is  dazzling  my  eyes  continu- 
ally. I  have  already  excited  a  warm  inter- 
est with  many  friends  in  my  behalf  :  to  fail, 
therefore,  would  be  painful  beyond  descrip- 
tion. To  return  to  Boston,  and  receive  a  cold 
welcome  where  I  have  been  so  warmly  pa- 
tronized would  be  a  sore  wound  to  my  pride 
and  ice  to  my  ambition.  Yet  it  is  but  fair  to 
count  upon  this  in  some  degree.  Public 
favors  and  opinion  are  capricious.  There  was 
something  novel,  perhaps,  in  my  history  that 
contributed  more  to  my  unheard-of  success 
than  any  merit  I  possessed  as  a  painter.  The 
fact  of  a  man's  coming  from  the  backwoods 
of  America,  entirely  uneducated,  to  paint 
even  a  tolerable  portrait,  was  enough  to 


CHESTER  HARDING,  117 


excite  some  little  interest.  That  source  of 
interest  will  be  cut  off  on  my  return.  I 
shall  be  judged  of  as  one  having  had  all  the 
advantages  of  the  best  schools  of  art  in 
Europe ;  and  the  probability  is,  that  more 
will  be  expected  of  me  than  is  in  the  power 
of  almost  any  man  to  perform, 

TO  s.  F.  L. 

London,  July  17,  1824. 
•  .  .  Have  you  heard  much  of  Matthews  ? 
He  has  had  a  wonderful  run.  His  Tour  to 
America  has  brought  crowded  houses  in  all 
kinds  of  weather,  but  such  a  representation 
is,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  very  prejudicial 
to  us.  The  true  character  of  our  nation  is 
but  very  little  known  here  by,  at  least,  nine 
tenths  of  the  theatre  -  going  people ;  conse- 
quently they  are  impressed  with  the  notion 
that  we  are,  as  a  nation,  as  truly  represented 
by  this  buffoonery,  as  Monsieur  Tonson,  or 
any  other  of  Matthews'  favorite  characters. 
He  has  introduced  a  Militia  Review,  at 
which  there  does  not  appear  to  be  a  great 
supply  of  arms,  but  pitch-forks,  umbrellas, 
fishing-rods,  etc.,  make  up  the  deficiencies. 
Then  the  commanding  officer  reads  the  words 
of  command,  and  so  on,  making  the  thing 
truly  remarkable.    This  is  well  enough  as  a 


118  CHESTER  HARDING. 


burlesque,  but  that  tlie  people  should  take 
this  for  the  true  picture  of  our  Nation's  Bul- 
wark is,  to  me,  quite  ridiculous.  A  gentle- 
man was  asking  me,  the  other  day,  many 
questions  relating  to  America,  and  seemed 
well  disposed  toward  us,  but  he  said  he 
thought  we  ought  to  have  some  military 
system,  in  order  to  defend  ourselves  against 
invasion.  I  replied  that  we  had  a  military 
system.  "  What,"  he  said  laughingly,  "  your 
broomstick  and  umbrella  men  ? "  Yes,  I 
told  him,  and  that  these  broomstick  and  um- 
brella men  had  beaten  the  flower  of  the 
British  army,  twelve  to  one  against  them. 
(I  here  mentioned  the  affair  at  New  Or- 
leans.) This,  I  observed,  was  a  home  thrust 
to  him,  but  it  came  in  so  opportunely,  that, 
excited  as  I  was  at  that  moment,  I  believe 
it  would  have  come  out  had  I  known  that 
it. would  have  cost  me  this  gentleman's  good- 
will, altogether. 

Saturday^  July  31.  Introduced  to  Irving, 
by  Leslie.  He  is  very  pleasing  in  his  man- 
ners ;  talks  with  great  volubility,  at  the 
same  time  has  a  little  hesitation,  or  want  of 
fluency,  in  conversation. 

Called  upon  the  Duke  of  Sussex.  He 
recommends  to  me  to  send  for  my  wife,  and 
make  England  my  home. 


CHESTER  HAULING, 


119 


August  3.  Called  upon  the  Duke  of 
Sussex,  and  got  a  letter  to  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton.  On  the  4th,  gave  up  my  rooms, 
and  set  off  for  Scotland.  Arrived  here 
(York)  at  half  past  nine,  the  9th.  It  is 
with  great  difficulty  I  can  understand  the 
Yorkshire  dialect.  The  cathedral  here  is 
sublime.  I  went  to  the  top  of  the  grand 
tower,  which  measures  sixty-five  feet  square 
on  the  top,  and  affords  one  of  the  finest 
views  of  high  cultivation  that  I  ever  saw. 
The  cathedral  is  five  hundred  and  twenty 
feet  long.  The  town  of  York  is  a  walled 
city :  it  has  four  public  entrances  through 
strong  gates.  Left  York  on  Friday,  at  ten. 
The  country  is  delightful.  From  London 
to  York,  and,  indeed,  in  every  other  direc- 
tion from  London,  the  coachmen  are  fat 
and  red-faced,  answering  faithfully  the  de- 
scription given  by  Irving.  They  will  cer- 
tainly weigh  from  two  hundred  and  fifty  to 
three  hundred  pounds  each  ;  but,  after  leav- 
ing York  for  Scotland,  the  likeness  is  lost. 
They  are  like  the  coachmen  of  London,  com- 
monly called  jarvies,  —  dirty,  and  lean  as 
greyhounds.  The  reason  is,  probably,  that 
they  have  to  take  care  of  their  own  horses, 
as  they  drive  only  one  stage. 

Arrived  in  Glasgow  at  five  on  Sunday 
morning,  August  8th. 


120  CHESTER  IIAEDING. 

Tuesday^  Augicst  10.  Walked  about  Glas- 
gow with  my  friend  Pattison.  Saw  the 
Museum,  the  High-Church  Cathedral,  and 
many  other  objects  of  interest.  This  town 
is  almost  exclusively  a  manufacturing  town, 
—  glass  and  cotton  goods,  but  principally 
the  latter. 

Wednesday^  Augiistll.  Got  into  a  coach 
with  Pattison,  and  set  off  for  New  Lanark, 
the  seat  of  Mr.  Owen's  great  experiment. 
We  arrived  at  Lanark  about  noon,  where 
all  was  gayety.  It  was  the  annual  fair.  We 
dined  with  Mr.  Owen  at  six  o'clock.  He 
lives  in  good  style,  keeps  open  house  to 
those  who  visit  his  establishment,  and  every- 
thing is  comfortable  about  him.  The  family 
is  very  interesting. 

Thursday^  August  12.  Went  down  to  the 
new  village  and  through  all  the  different 
mills.  Heard  the  classes  at  their  recita- 
tions ;  little  boys  and  girls,  from  three  to 
five,  answering  questions  in  geography.  Mr. 
Owen  asked  a  little  creature,  not  more  than 
four  years  old,  what  country  I  lived  in, 
telling  him  the  Atlantic  divided  my  country 
from  this.  He  first  said  the  Brazils,  then 
Columbia,  then  North  America.  The  most 
perfect  order  prevails  in  every  department 
of  the  establishment.    The  children  are  as 


CHESTER  HARDING,  121 


happy  at  their  lessons  as  they  are  at  their 
play.  Everything  indicates  contentment. 
The  oldest  class  of  boys  is  composed  of  those 
ten  years  old  and  under.  They  study  nat- 
ural history,  botany,  mineralogy,  mathemat- 
ics, and  music.  Many  of  them  perform 
well  on  different  instruments  :  they  dance 
four  sets  of  cotillons  at  once ;  their  dancing 
would  not  disgrace  a  London  drawing-room. 
I  never  witnessed  a  more  interesting  sight 
than  this. 

To  see  children  taken  from  the  lowest 
dregs  of  society,  and  taught  to  enjoy  all  the 
blessings  of  refined  life,  and  at  an  expense 
entirely  within  their  own  reach,  is  to  every 
feeling  mind  a  treat  of  the  highest  order. 
The  parents  of  these  children,  and  all  above 
ten  years  old,  work  in  the  mills  eight  hours 
each  day.  Their  pay  enables  them  to  buy 
every  comfort  that  nature  requires.  There 
is  a  store  here  containing  everything  they 
want  to  eat,  drink,  or  wear.  The  goods  are 
laid  in  at  the  lowest  rate,  and  cost  and 
charges  are  all  that  is  required  for  them. 
By  this  means,  the  goods  are  sold  at  thirty 
per  cent,  lower  rate  than  they  would  be 
otherwise.  If,  after  the  deduction  of  all  the 
expenses  of  the  establishment,  there  should 
be  any  money  remaining,  it  is  appropriated 


122 


CHESTER  IIABDING. 


to  the  general  good,  such  as  buying  medi- 
cines, paying  physicians,  etc. 

The  village  is  beautifully  situated  on  the 
Clyde,  with  rugged  and  romantic  scenery 
about  it.  The  houses  are  built  of  stone ; 
generally  three,  and  sometimes  four,  stories 
high,  with  every  convenience  possible  for 
cooking,  etc. 

Saturday^  August  14.  Went  to  the  Falls 
of  the  Clyde,  about  two  miles  above  New  Lan- 
ark. The  water  falls  about  thirty  feet  per- 
pendicularly, with  beautiful  scenery  around. 
About  a  mile  from  Lanark  on  the  Court- 
land  Craigs,  a  place  famous  for  warlocks 
and  witches  in  olden  times,  is  the  cave  where 
Wallace  hid  himself. 

There  is  at  this  time  here  a  Mr.  Flower 
from  Indiana,  who  is  authorized  by  Mr. 
Eapp  of  New  Harmony  to  sell  his  establish- 
ment. Mr.  Owen  seems  too  credulous.  Mr. 
Flower  draws  a  "  long  bow,"  now  and  then; 
and  has  so  far  worked  upon  Mr.  Owen  as  to 
persuade  him  to  go  out  and  see  the  place. 
Mr.  Flower  is  all  the  time  representing  In- 
diana as  the  most  important  State  in  the 
Union.  This  I  can  see  through  readily 
enough,  as  he  has  a  large  estate  adjoining 
New  Harmony,  which  would  be  much  im- 
proved by  such  a  settlement  as  Mr.  Owen 


CHESTER  HARDING.  123 


would  probably  make.  I  advise  Mr.  Owen 
to  try  his  plans  in  Massachusetts,  or  some 
other  of  the  old  States,  where  there  is  a 
more  crowded  population  as  well  as  a  greater 
portion  of  intellect.  But  Mr.  Flower  will 
succeed,  I  fear. 

Monday.  Set  off  for  Hamilton.  Stayed 
at  the  inn.  Tuesday  morning,  sent  my  let- 
ter with  my  address  to  the  palace ;  but  it 
was  soon  returned,  with  direction  from  the 
footman  that  "  all  letters  to  his  Grace 
must  come  through  the  post-office."  This, 
I  afterwards  learned,  was  to  avoid  refusing, 
more  directly,  admittance  to  the  gallery,  as 
there  were  so  many  applications  that  the 
family  were  constantly  annoyed.  I  took 
the  letter,  and  went  to  the  palace  with  the 
resolve  to  see  his  Grace,  if  possible.  After 
waiting  half  an  hour,  the  duke  came  out 
from  the  breakfast-table,  and  very  politely 
asked  me  into  the  breakfast-room,  and  in- 
vited me  to  take  breakfast ;  but  I  declined 
the  honor,  and  made  my  business  known  to 
him,  which  was  to  request  the  duke  to  sit 
for  a  picture  for  the  Duke  of  Sussex.  He 
readily  complied,  and  asked  me  to  send  for 
my  portmanteau,  and  take  up  my  residence 
with  him. 

I  soon  commenced  the  portrait.    The  day 


124  CHESTER  HARDING. 


passed  off  very  happily  in  looking  at  the  pic- 
tures of  the  old  masters,  of  which  here  are 
hundreds.  Five  o'clock  came,  and  I  began 
to  dress  for  dinner.  Felt  rather  aguish  from 
fear,  and  wished  the  ordeal  of  dinner  well 
over.  Six  o'clock  came  at  last,  and  I  was 
ushered  into  the  dining-room.  In  a  short 
time  I  began  to  realize  that  my  titled  com- 
panions were  very  like  other  people  ;  and 
in  a  short  time  more,  my  nerves  became 
steady,  though  I  could  not  entirely  refrain 
from  moving  my  knife  and  fork  a  little, 
or  playing  with  my  bread,  or  in  some 
other  awkward  way  betraying  my  want  of 
ease.  There  was  a  display  of  great  mag- 
nificence ;  servants  all  in  livery,  splendid 
plate.  The  duchess  and  her  daughter  re- 
tired early ;  and,  about  nine,  the  gentlemen 
followed  them.  The  duchess  made  tea  with 
her  own  fair  hand,  and  was,  besides,  very 
agreeable.  At  half  past  eleven,  I  set  off  for 
bed  ;  and,  on  my  way,  thanked  my  stars 
that  it  was  all  over,  and  matters  stood  no 
worse. 

The  palace  is  two  hundred  and  sixty-five 
feet  long  by  two  hundred  broad.  The  pic- 
ture gallery  is  a  hundred  and  thirty-five 
long,  full  of  old  cabinets  and  other  curious 
furniture.    I  am  obliged  to  own  to  myself 


CHESTER  HARDING.  125 


that  this  style  of  living  is  very  charming : 
everything  around  one  savors  strongly  of 
title,  wealth,  and  antiquity.  We  breakfast 
at  ten,  lunch  at  two,  and  dine  at  six.  The 
duchess  is  pretty,  witty,  and  sociable.  Lord 
Archibald  Hamilton  is  staying  here  at  this 
time,  and  is  a  very  clever  man.  I  think  I 
shall  succeed  very  well.  All  the  household 
servants  have  been  in  to  look  at  the  picture, 
and  say  it  could  not  be  more  like.  As  I 
walk  about  the  grounds,  the  laborers,  old 
and  young,  lift  their  hats  as  I  pass  them. 
This  respect  and  reverence  sit  but  ill  on  me, 
who  have  been  all  the  early  part  of  life  in 
as  humble  a  sphere  as  those  who  pay  it. 
What  freak  of  fortune  is  this  which  has 
raised  me  from  the  hut  in  my  native  wilds 
to  the  table  of  a  duke  of  the  realm  of  Great 
Britain !  By  another  freak,  I  may  be  sent 
back  to  the  hovel  again,  but  not  to  enjoy 
those  innocent  pleasures  that  were  mixed 
with  the  toils  of  boyhood. 

Sunday.  Walked  to  Bothwell  Brig ;  then 
to  Bothwell  Castle.  The  gardener  showed 
me  the  gardens  and  hot-houses,  and  the 
grounds,  that  are  laid  off  most  beautifully. 
We  left  this  fertile  spot  for  one  calculated 
to  awaken  feelings  of  no  ordinary  nature. 
As  we  bent  our  course  to  the  castle,  we  sud- 


126  CHESTER  HARDING. 


denly  came  into  a  full  view  of  it,  at  about 
half  a  mile's  distance  from  it,  up  the  Clyde. 
It  is  strikingly  beautiful  as  seen  from  this 
point.  It  stands  upon  a  high  bank,  which 
has^  a  frightful  descent  to  the  river  below. 
One  side  of  the  castle  is  in  tolerably  good 
repair  or  preservation,  but  almost  overgrown 
with  ivy.  The  sun  was  bright,  and  there 
was  not  a  breath  to  disturb  the  solemn  si- 
lence that  prevailed  amidst  these  relics  of 
ancient  grandeur.  One  side  of  the  castle 
has  fallen  to  the  ground ;  and  large  trees, 
at  least  a  foot  through,  are  growing  on  the 
heavy  masses  of  stone,  that  were  too  strongly 
cemented  to  be  broken.  Larch-trees,  two 
feet  through,  are  now  standing  where  the 
principal  breach  was  made,  like  mighty  con- 
querors viewing  their  fallen  foe.  The  wall 
is  about  six  feet  thick,  built  of  rough  stone  ; 
and,  wherever  there  are  any  crevices  in  it, 
vegetation  is  seen  shooting  forth.  One  who 
has  not  visited  these  or  like  ruins  can  form 
no  idea  of  their  sublimity.  I  sat  down  upon 
one  of  the  stones  that  were  formerly  a  part 
of  this  once  impregnable  fortress,  and  calmly 
viewed  the  surrounding  walls.  I  thought  of 
the  thousands  who  had  died  in  their  de- 
fense :  the  same  sun  shone  on  them  that 
now  shines  on  me.    They  were  as  full  of 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


127 


ambition  as  I  am,  and  thouglit  as  little  of 
this  generation  as  I  do  of  those  yet  unborn ; 
and  where  are  they  now  ? 

There  is  a  finely  built,  showy,  modern 
house  standing  within  sight  of  these  ruins ; 
but  it  is  only  a  dull  reality  :  there  is  none  of 
the  poetry  of  association  to  make  one  pause 
to  look  at  it  a  second  time, 

Sunday  night*  After  dinner,  took  leave 
of  the  family.  The  duke  urged  me  to  stay 
a  few  days  longer.  The  duchess  wished  me 
every  success,  and  Lord  Archibald  pressed 
me  to  call  on  him  in  London.  The  duke 
said  if  it  was  at  any  time  in  his  power  to 
serve  me,  he  should  be  most  happy  to  do  so. 
He  ordered  a  portrait  of  his  Royal  High- 
ness, the  Duke  of  Sussex.  He  advised  me 
not  to  think  of  returning  to  my  own  coun- 
try for  the  present.  Thus  ended  a  visit  of 
ten  days  that  I  shall  long  remember  with 
delight  and  gratitude,  but  no  honor  which 
a  royal  duke  or  any  one  else  in  this  country 
can  confer  upon  me  will  ever  make  me  feel 
that  pleasure  which  the  remembrance  of 
the  kindness  of  the  people  of  Boston  has 
done. 

Monday.  Left  the  palace  for  Glasgow  at 
nine  o'clock. 

Tuesday  morn  in ff.    Set  off  with  Pattison 


128  CHESTER  HARDING. 


and  a  small  party  of  ladies  for  the  High- 
lands :  we  crossed  overland  from  Helens- 
burgh to  Loch  Lomond,  a  distance  of  eight 
or  nine  miles.  We  got  in  sight  of  the  loch 
about  three  o'clock;  and,  after  taking  our 
tea,  we  set  off  in  a  small  row-boat  for  Ben 
Lomond,  a  distance  of  five  miles.  The  day- 
was  fine.  I  wrote  on  the  loch,  in  my  pocket 
memorandum-book,  In  the  middle  of  the 
loch,  just  as  the  sun  is  gilding  the  highest 
peaks  of  Ben  Lomond.  How  heavenly  the 
scene  !  The  red  clouds  behind  Ben  Lomond 
look  like  fairyland,  only  more  beautiful : 
all  is  still  as  the  grave,  save  the  plashing  of 
the  oars  ;  the  high  mountains  on  either  side 
are  reflected  in  the  crystal  waters  ;  the  sun 
has  just  bid  adieu  to  the  highest  rock  of  the 
mountain  :  no  scene  on  earth  can  be  more 
enchanting."  The  loch  is  about  four  miles 
wide  on  an  average,  and  very  pure,  cold 
water.  We  landed  just  at  twilight,  and  en- 
tered a  dirty  Highland  hut,  called  an  inn, 
at  the  foot  of  Ben  Lomond.  Had  my  sup- 
per, and  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep ;  hor- 
rible beds,  dirty  sheets,  and  a  very  small 
room  for  two  of  us.  We  rose  early,  got  a 
little  breakfast,  such  as  it  was  ;  and  then 
five  of  us,  Mr.  P.,  Miss  P.,  Miss  Monteith, 
Miss  Park,  and  myself,  set  off  for  the  top  of 


CHESTER  HABDING.  129 


the  mountain.  The  mountain  is  between 
three  and  four  thousand  feet  above  the  loch : 
the  manner  in  which  v/e  were  obliged  to 
wind  our  way  up  made  a  distance  of  about 
six  miles  to  the  top.  The  day  proved  fine, 
though  we  were  occasionally  enveloped  in 
clouds  that  were  scudding  along  the  side  of 
the  hill.  At  last  we  reached  the  top,  which 
w^as  far  above  any  clouds  that  were  flying. 
What  a  singular  sensation  was  produced  by 
looking  down  upon  the  clouds  !  We  amused 
ourselves  with  throwing  down  large  stones. 
The  hundred  mountains  in  view,  the  lights 
and  shades,  the  blue  mist,  and  the  most  pic- 
turesque outline  that  can  be  formed,  made 
the  scene  as  heavenly  as  anything  earthly 
can  be. 

We  stayed  on  the  hill  an  hour  or  two,  and 
then  descended.  After  a  bad  dinner,  got 
on  to  a  steamboat,  and  steamed  down  the 
loch.  On  our  way  to  Dumbarton,  we  passed 
the  house  where  Smollett  was  born.  It 
stands  on  the  beautiful  river  Severn,  which 
is  the  outlet  of  the  loch.  The  house  is  small 
and  of  no  interest,  except  as  having  been 
the  birthplace  of  this  great  man.  Just  op- 
posite stands  a  small  but  neat  monument 
to  his  memory.  We  arrived  just  before 
sunset  at  Dumbarton  Castle  ;  and,  in  order 


130  CHESTER  HARDING. 


to  see  it,  concluded  to  stay  all  night.  The 
castle  is  kept  by  a  governor  and  a  few  sol- 
diers. It  is  said  to  be  a  miniature  of  Gib- 
raltar :  it  is  a  solid  mass  of  rock  ;  on  the 
top  is  a  spring  of  pure  water.  From  it  we 
had  a  charming  view  of  the  Clyde,  both  up 
and  down. 

Left  Glasgow,  Monday,  August  30,  for 
Stirling ;  went  a  part  of  the  way  in  a  canal- 
boat.  Reached  Stirling  at  four  o'clock ; 
very  clear,  fine  weather.  Went  direct  from 
the  coach  to  the  top  of  the  castle,  which 
affords  one  of  the  richest  views  I  ever  saw, 
except  that  from  the  top  of  Mount  Holyoke, 
in  Northampton.  The  Frith  of  Forth  winds 
through  a  very  fertile  valley.  The  castle 
stands  upon  a  rock  one  hundred  and  ninety 
feet  above  tide-water,  and  is  in  good  repair, 
well  garrisoned,  with  guns  mounted.  It 
looks  to  me  impregnable. 

Left  at  six  next  morning  for  Edinburgh, 
in  a  steamboat ;  passed  through  a  rich 
country.  Arrived  at  the  Black  Bull  at  one 
o'clock.  This  is  a  splendid  town  of  palaces, 
all  of  stone,  and  from  five  to  ten  stories 
high.  Went  through  the  castle  of  Edin- 
burgh. Saw  the  crown  of  the  Scottish 
kings :  it  is  shown  by  lamplight,  and  seen 
through  a  strong  iron  cage  such  as  lions  and 


CHESTER  HARDING.  131 


tigers  are  generally  exhibited  in.  The  cas- 
tle is  not  unlike  that  at  Stirling,  strongly 
garrisoned.  Went  to  see  the  new  Bride- 
well ;  saw  some  poor  condemned  wretches 
at  work  on  the  tread-mill.  Went  to  Holy- 
rood  House.  This  is  a  splendid  palace  :  the 
greater  part  of  it  is  in  perfect  repair ;  the 
chapel  is  in  beautiful  ruin.  In  the  centre  of 
the  chapel  is  the  burying-ground  of  the 
Scotch  nobility. 

Thursday.,  Septemher  2.  Called  upon 
Blackwood,  and  found  him  very  civil.  He 
said  it  was  singular  that  Leslie,  Newton,  and 
myself  should  appear  to  him  so  soon  after 
the  article  in  his  magazine  giving  so  mi- 
nutely the  characteristics  of  each. 

At  four  o'clock,  left  Edinburgh  for  Glas- 
gow. 

Sunday^  SejJtember  5.  Spent  the  day  at 
Dunoon,  a  place  opposite  Gourock.  In  the 
course  of  the  day,  we  took  a  boat,  and 
rowed  up  the  "  Holj^  Loch,"  a  beautiful 
sheet  of  water,  surrounded  on  three  sides 
by  high  and  steep  hills.  At  the  foot  of  one 
of  these  stands  the  vault  of  the  family  of 
Argyll.  It  is  situated  in  the  centre  of  an 
old  churchyard,  with  two  platforms,  about 
ten  feet  wide  and  two  feet  high,  on  which 
the  coffins  of  many  generations  of  the  Ar« 


132 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


gyll  family  lie.  Some  of  the  bodies  are  em- 
balmed. The  coffins  are  richly  decorated 
with  the  arms  of  the  family.  I  sat  down 
upon  one  of  these  coffins,  and  could  not  help 
comparing  the  ashes  that  slept  within  with 
those  of  his  vassals  that  lay  unheeded  in  the 
yard  without.  The  one  was  now  as  motion- 
less as  the  other ;  the  one  was  now  as  power- 
less as  the  other  ;  the  same  grave  had  opened 
for  both,  and  yet  how  different  their  lots  in 
this  world!  There  was  something  awfully 
solemn  in  this  tabernacle  of  the  dead.  The 
faint  light  from  one  small  window  made 
even  my  companions  look  like  inhabitants  of 
the  place  :  we  were  glad  to  return  to  the 
cheerful  light  of  day. 

Monday  I  returned  to  Glasgow. 

Saturday,  September  11.  A  call  from 
J.  S.  Knowles  and  Macready. 

Saturday,  September  18.  We  went  over 
the  grounds  of  the  Duke  of  Argyll.  Saw 
a  great  many  cypress  and  yew  trees,  two  of 
the  former  measuring  eighteen  feet  in  cir- 
cumference. 

Monday,  September  20.  Returning  this 
morning  from  the  AthenaBum,  I  met  a 
respectable  merchant,  and  asked,  "  What 
news  ?  "  as  carelessly  as  one  asks  "  Are  all 
well  at  home  ?  "    He  replied,  "  No  news,  no 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


133 


news  at  all.  I  have  been  looking  through 
the  '  Courier,'  and  find  nothing."  —  "  But," 
said  I,  did  you  not  notice  the  death  of 
the  two  monarchs,  Louis  XVIII.  and  Itur- 
bide  ?  "  —  Oh  !  yes,  I  saw  that ;  but  it  will 
have  no  effect  at  all  upon  trade."  This  is 
a  fair  specimen  of  the  trading  class  of  this 
great  and  populous  city. 


CHAPTER  V. 


Wednesday^  October  6.  Made  up  my 
mind  to  leave  the  city,  and  consequently 
settled  with  the  landlady ;  received  pay  for 
my  labors,  and  took  an  affectionate  farewell 
of  my  friends.  I  got  on  to  a  steamboat 
ten  o'clock,  and  sailed  for  Belfast,  Ireland. 
This  is  a  fine  town,  containing  about  fifty 
thousand  inhabitants.  Mr.  Spurr,  one  of 
my  fellow-travelers,  agreed  to  go  on  to  Dub- 
lin with  me  ;  so  we  set  off  for  that  place  in 
high  spirits.  We  passed  through  many  very 
neat  villages  and  towns,  much  more  so  than 
the  like  towns  in  England  or  Scotland ; 
but  they  say  this  is  the  gem  of  the  Emerald 
Isle.    The  scenery  in  some  parts  is  very  fine. 

We  traveled  over  a  great  deal  of  the  peat 
or  turf  country.  We  passed  by  the  Mar- 
quis of  Cunningham's  seat,  on  the  Boyne. 
The  high  cultivation,  and  the  beautiful  little 
fall  in  the  river,  make  this  spot  most  envia- 
ble. The  river  is  about  the  size  of  the  Deer- 
field  River.  At  seven  o'clock,  we  arrived  in 
the  great  city  of  Dubhn. 


CHESTER  HARDING.  135 


Saturday  morning  It  set  in  to  rain,  and 
continued  to  rain  and  blow  a  hurricane  until 
Wednesday.  I  spent  the  greater  part  of  the 
day  in  calling  upon  the  artists  of  Dublin.  I 
had  a  letter  to  Mr.  Comerford,  a  protege  of 
Mr.  Stuart,  who  is  the  principal  artist  (a 
miniature  painter)  in  Ireland. 

Tuesday^  October  12.  Still  a  most  dread- 
ful storm ;  accounts  of  many  wrecks  at 
Kingston  and  along  the  coast.  Visited  the 
public  buildings.  Dublin  is  a  fine  city, 
equal,  if  not  superior,  to  Edinburgh.  Yet  it 
is  a  deserted  town.  How  galling  must  it  be 
to  the  feelings  of  a  proud  Irishman  to  see 
this  decay  of  his  nation's  greatness  !  The 
splendid  Parliament  House  is  now  converted 
into  a  banking-house  ;  the  mansions  of  their 
nobility  are  used  as  boarding-houses,  ho- 
tels, etc. 

Dined  with  Mr.  Cummins,  an  amateur 
artist;  a  delightful  party.  In  the  morning, 
went  with  Mr.  Comerford  to  Kingston,  a 
distance  of  five  miles,  to  see  the  effects  of  the 
gale.  It  was  a  horrible  sight:  wrecks  in 
every  quarter,  some  washing  to  pieces,  some 
driven  high  and  dry  upon  the  sandy  beach. 
In  a  new  harbor  just  completed,  which  was 
thought  very  secure,  there  were  four  large 
ships  broken  to  pieces.    The  new  break- 


136 


CHESTER  UAEBING. 


water,  a  stupendous  work  of  a  mile  in 
length  with  three  railways  upon  it,  was 
torn  up  by  the  heavy  sea,  not  a  vestige  of 
the  railways  left ;  the  stones  were  hove  up 
like  ice  in  a  spring  flood.  While  we  were 
contemplating  this  scene,  the  waves  having 
subsided  a  little  so  as  to  enable  us  to  walk 
out  on  the  ruinous  pile,  we  saw  a  brig  mak- 
ing for  the  harbor  in  distress.  She  had  lost 
a  part  of  her  rigging,  which  rendered  her  in 
some  degree  unmanageable ;  and,  besides,  the 
crew,  as  we  afterwards  learned,  were  worn 
out  with  fatigue,  so  that  she  was  unable  to 
make  the  harbor,  but  was  drifting  fast  upon 
the  rocks,  with  a  heavy  sea  and  a  strong 
wind  to  force  her  upon  them.  This  was  an 
awful  moment :  four  or  five  hundred  spec- 
tators within  hail,  yet  unable  to  rendei?  the 
least  assistance  :  it  seemed  that  their  doom 
was  sealed.  Their  only  reliance  now  rested 
upon  the  cable,  which  was  literally  their 
thread  of  life.  The  poor  wretches  had 
weathered  the  gale  for  fifty  hours,  and  now 
so  near  land,  and  yet  without  a  hope  of 
escape  !  Many  of  the  seamen,  and  two  or 
three  of  the  passengers,  were  clinging  to  the 
bulwarks  of  the  ship  to  prevent  their  being 
washed  off,  unable  to  do  more.  At  length 
a  ray  of  hope  beams  upon  them :  a  boat  is 


CHESTER  HARDING.  137 


discovered  putting  out  from  shore.  It  is  a 
lifeboat,  manned  with  twelve  brave,  stout 
tars.  All  eyes  are  now  turned  upon  the 
half-worn-out  cable.  There  is  a  universal  cry 
of  "  If  it  only  holds  until  the  boat  comes  up, 
they  are  safe  !  "  This  was  the  most  painful 
and  anxious  moment  of  my  life  ;  hope  and 
fear  alternated  in  the  breast  of  each  be- 
holder. Sometimes  we  heard  the  cry,  She 
drags  her  anchor  ; "  and  then,  "  No,  she  still 
holds  ;  "  until,  at  length,  the  boat  came  up 
and  made  fast  under  the  lee  of  the  brig  ; 
and  the  passengers  and  crew  were  seen 
crawling  over  the  sides  of  the  vessel,  and 
letting  loose  their  hold :  we  could  see  them 
fall  like  so  many  sacks  into  the  boat.  In  a 
few  moments  more  we  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  these  poor  creatures  snatched  from 
what  had  seemed,  so  recently,  inevitable 
destruction.  Not  long  after  this  worn-out 
crew  had  left  their  perilous  situation,  another 
boat  was  seen  putting  off  from  shore  with 
as  bold  a  crew  as  the  former,  but  actuated 
by  very  different  motives :  they  went  to 
make  a  prize  of  the  deserted  wreck.  At  the 
imminent  hazard  of  their  lives,  they  suc- 
ceeded in  boarding  and  taking  her  away. 

Here  I  had  the  mortification  to  see  the 
frigate  Essex,  that  had  been  taken  during 
the  last  war,  a  prison  hulk. 


138  CHESTER  HARDING. 


Wednesday^  October  13.  Left  Dublin  for 
Holyhead  in  the  king's  steam-packet.  There 
was  a  tremendous  sea  rolling,  in  consequence 
of  the  late  gale.  Landed  at  Holyhead  at 
two  o'clock.  Took  a  coach  to  Shrewsbury  ; 
slept  at  Bangor.  At  this  place  is  now*  build- 
ing a  suspension  bridge  ;  the  distance  from 
one  pier  to  another  is  five  hundred  and 
seventy  feet,  and  very  high  :  a  ship  under 
full  sail  can  go  under  it. 

Thursday  morning  at  four  we  mounted 
our  rolling  world "  and  set  off.  When 
daylight  came  we  were  in  full  view  of  the 
Welsh  mountains.  They  were  beautiful, 
with  the  tops  covered  with  snow.  We 
wound  our  way  through  them  for  nearly 
thirty  miles.  The  road  is  fine  beyond  con- 
ception (it  was  built  by  the  government  at 
an  enormous  expense),  the  hills  are  barren, 
rocky,  and  very  steep.  In  every  direction 
little  streams  as  pure  and  white  as  snow  are 
seen,  tumbling  down  their  sides.  Now  and 
then  we  meet  a  hut  covered  with  green  turf. 
On  the  very  top  of  these  lofty  mountains 
is  a  small  lake  of  pure,  cold  water,  from 
which  a  little  stream  issues  which  increases 
rapidly,  as  it  descends  the  mountain,  until  it 
becomes  a  river.  The  Dee  passes  through  a 
rich  valley,  highly  improved.   After  leaving 


CHESTER  HARDING.  139 


the  Dee,  the  scenery  is  entirely  uninterest- 
ing, and,  like  the  greater  part  of  England, 
to  be  admired  for  little  else  besides  its  cul- 
tivation. 

Saturday.,  16.  Arrived  safe  in  London. 
Called  upon  my  friends  and  patrons,  but 
found  the  most  of  them  had  left  town. 
When  I  first  arrived  in  London  (in  August, 
1823),  I  was  told  that  "everybody  was  out 
of  town."  I  could  not  then  understand  it, 
but  now  I  felt  the  truth  of  the  remark. 
Spent  a  week  in  looking  at  the  "  wonders." 

Sunday^  October  17.  Set  off  for  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk's,  at  Fornham,  Bury  St. 
Edmunds.    Arrived  at  three. 

Monday  morning.,  October  18.  After 
breakfast,  took  a  post-chaise  to  Fornham,  a 
distance  of  two  miles,  for  which  I  paid  ten 
shillings.  I  had  only  paid  twelve  shillings 
from  London  to  Bury.  Cursed  this  imposi- 
tion ;  but,  as  I  was  going  to  the  duke's,  it 
ill  became  me  to  complain.  Arrived  at  the 
Hall  at  ten  o'clock.  Found  his  Grace  with 
a  small  party  at  breakfast.  He  was  very 
polite  ;  introduced  me  to  Sir  Edward  Cod- 
rington,  Dr.  WoUaston,  and  several  other 
gentlemen.  He  was  engaged  for  the  day, 
so  could  not  give  me  a  sitting ;  but  gave  me 
a  good  horse,  and  introduced  me  to  his  f  ac- 


140  CHESTER  HARDING. 


tor.  We  rode  all  over  the  duke's  grounds. 
In  the  course  of  the  day,  we  went  into  the 
Court  of  Sessions.  Nothing  can  be  more 
ridiculous,  in  my  estimation,  than  the  gowns 
and  wigs  of  the  lawyers.  Heard  some  sharp 
disputation,  tinctured  with  sarcasm.  I  never 
heard  so  much  confusion  in  any  of  our  pet- 
tifog'ging  courts  in  my  life. 

The  duke  lives  in  splendid  style.  Ser- 
vants in  every  direction  to  attend  one's  nod. 
The  dukedom  of  Norfolk  is  the  finest  in  the 
realm, 

Tuesday,  Commenced  the  portrait ;  after 
which  the  duke  invited  us  all  to  ride  with 
him  over  his  farms.  He  is  a  great  agricul- 
turist. His  farms  are  as  well  conducted  as 
any  in  the  country.  His  farmhouses  are  not 
only  comfortable,  but  would  be  called  splen- 
did in  America.  Stables,  barns,  yards,  etc., 
in  the  very  best  condition.  We  returned 
about  five  to  dress  for  dinner.  The  conver- 
sation of  this  circle  is  generally  upon  the 
"  sports  of  the  field,"  or  the  "  turf,"  the 
"  breed  of  hounds,"  the  pedigree  of  a 
horse,"  etc.  Politics  are  seldom  touched 
upon.  The  variety  of  wines  demands,  of 
course,  a  share  of  table4alk. 

Thursday,  Going  on  very  well  with  the 
picture.    Sir  Edward,  I  find,  was  at  the 


CHESTER  HARDING.  141 


battle  of  New  Orleans,  and  feels  not  a  little 
sore  on  account  of  the  rough  reception  the 
British  met  with  there. 

Friday  night,  all  hands  went  to  the  the- 
atre at  Bury.  The  duke  had  ordered  a 
play  :  "  so,  after  dinner,  which  was  early,  we 
set  off  in  two  carriages.  The  theatre  was 
\ery  much  crowded  ;  and,  when  we  entered 
the  box  that  was  appropriated  to  the  duke, 
all  eyes  were  turned  upon  us.  Probably, 
for  this  once  at  any  rate,  I  was  taken  for 
one  of  the  great  ones. 

3Ionday^  November  1.  Finished  the  head 
of  the  duke.  It  is  said  by  the  company 
present  to  be  the  best  portrait  that  has  been 
taken  of  him.  He  has  asked  me  to  make  a 
copy  of  it  for  him,  and  has  promised  to  give 
me  a  sitting  in  town.  He  thinks  I  am  mis- 
taken in  going  back  to  America.  He  says 
America  is  too  young  for  the  arts  to  flour- 
ish. 

Tuesday  morning.  Took  leave  of  his 
Grace.  He  made  many  professions  of 
friendship.  He  sent  his  carriage  with  me 
to  Bury.  As  I  approached  the  inn,  I  ob- 
served a  good  deal  of  bustle  among  the 
attendants  and  hangers-on.  I  soon  guessed 
the  reason.  The  duke's  carriage  could  con- 
tain no  ordinary  personage.    I  waited  for  a 


142  CHESTER  HARDING. 


short  time,  until  the  coach  came  up  ;  and 
the  first  thing  the  landlord  did  was  to  whis- 
per in  the  coachman's  ear,  who  was  remark- 
ably civil  during  the  journey.^ 

Wednesday  evenmg^  November  17.  Left 
London  for  Dover,  at  which  place  we  arrived 
at  four  P.  M.  As  the  boat  left  immediately 
for  Calais,  I  could  see  nothing  of  the  place. 
The  boat  had  been  detained  two  days  by 
head  winds  blowing  a  gale.  It  was  doubt- 
ful at  first  whether  we  should  go  or  not; 
but  the  captain  concluded  to  try  it,  and  at 
ten  we  set  off.  I  never  experienced  so  dis- 
agreeable a  motion  in  my  life.    The  waves 

^  Mr.  Harding  often  told  a  little  incident  which  oc- 
curred upon  this  journey.  His  fellow-travelets,  seeing 
him  drive  up  in  the  duke's  coach,  took  it  for  granted  he 
was  a  man  of  rank ;  and,  j  udging  from  his  appearance 
that  he  was  a  military  man,  gave  him  the  title  of  Col- 
onel. They  were  very  obsequious,  and  were  so  talkative, 
and  used  his  imaginary  title  so  frequently,  that  he  grew 
weary  of  it,  and,  turning  to  them  at  last,  said  with  some 
dignity,  "  General,  if  you  please."  But  the  higher  his 
rank,  the  more  persistent  their  attentions.  At  last  the 
conversation  turned  upon  America  and  American  women, 
whom  his  companions  depreciated  in  a  way  which  aroused 
his  indignation  ;  and  he  warmly  undertook  their  defense. 
They  looked  at  him  in  surprise  ;  and  one  at  last  re- 
marked, "  You  feel  strongly  about  this  matter."  "  And 
well  I  may,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  for  I  have  an  American 
woman  for  my  wife,  and  an  American  woman  for  my 
mother."  After  this  he  was  troubled  with  no  more 
superfluous  attentions. 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


143 


were  rolling  directly  across  our  path,  and 
our  little  boat  was  tossed  about  like  an  egg- 
shell. Every  soul  on  board,  but  the  sailors, 
was  sick.  At  three  o'clock  we  made  the 
port  of  Calais.  Here,  for  the  first  time  since 
I  left  home,  I  feel  like  a  stranger.  Every- 
thing that  meets  my  eyes  or  ears  is  foreign. 
The  appearance  of  the  city  and  its  inhabit- 
ants is  strikingly  different  from  anything 
that  I  ever  met  before.  Calais  is  considered 
impregnable :  it  is  a  walled  town.  Great 
trouble  and  vexation  at  the  custom-house. 

Next  morning  we  set  off  for  Paris  in 
a  diligence.  The  English  say  a  great  deal 
of  our  bad  roads  and  bad  carriages ;  but 
they  have  only  to  cross  the  Channel  to  find, 
not  only  worse  roads  and  worse  coaches, 
but  worse-looking  establishments  altogether. 
The  horses  are  driven  by  rope  lines,  —  two 
wheel  and  three  lead  horses.  The  coachman 
rides  postilion,  and  the  horses  jog  on  at  the 
rate  of  about  five  miles  an  hour.  As  we 
traveled  by  night,  we  necessarily  lost  some 
of  the  views  worth  traveling  for.  We  passed 
through  two  walled  towns  during  the  night, 
each  of  which  I  had  a  strong  desire  to  see. 
The  gates  of  each  town  were  shut,  and 
some  little  ceremony  was  necessary  to  get  us 
through. 


144  CHESTER  HARDING. 

Satui'day^  November  20.  Clear  and  cold. 
I  rode  by  the  side  of  the  conducteur  the 
greater  part  of  the  day  ;  but,  as  he  did  not 
speak  or  understand  one  word  of  English, 
our  conversation  was  very  much  confined 
to  gesture.  Nothing  of  especial  interest 
during  the  day ;  passed  some  neat  towns. 
At  eight  in  the  evening,  we  arrived  in  Paris, 
and  stopped  at  the  Hotel  de  Meurice. 

Sunday^  November  21.  After  breakfast 
we  set  out  in  quest  of  wonders.  The  first 
thing  we  came  upon  was  the  Tuileries,  then 
the  gardens,  then  the  Seine.  The  view  from 
the  toll-bridge  is  the  most  picturesque  I 
have  ever  seen.  I  spend  hours  of  the  most 
exquisite  delight  in  looking  at  this  scene. 
The  Louvre  was  open  to  the  public,  at  least 
the  new  one ;  so  we  passed  in  without  any 
difficulty.  From  what  I  had  seen  and  read 
of  the  French  artists,  I  was  very  much  pre- 
judiced against  them ;  but  to  my  delight,  I 
found  the  exposition  full  of  good  pictures  of 
every  class,  except  portraits,  and  there  were 
a  few  of  those  that  were  not  bad.  In  the 
higher  walks  of  art,  they  stand  decidedly 
above  the  English.  The  English  artists  say 
the  French  are  full  of  affectation  ;  but  I  think 
there  is  as  much  affectation  in  the  English, 
and  of  a  less  pardonable  nature.    A  slovenly 


CHESTER  HARDING.  145 


finish  and  a  contempt  for  the  minutise  of 
nature  seem  to  possess  the  English  ;  while 
a  love  of  the  sublime,  and  a  high  finish, 
given  even  to  the  most  trifling  object,  seem 
the  ruling  passion  of  the  French.  The  lat- 
ter have  too  much  "  school,"  while  the 
former  have  too  little.  By  far  the  greater 
part  of  the  French  pictures  are  of  the  high- 
est school  of  art,  while  those  of  the  English 
are  of  the  lowest.  Some  of  the  large  pic- 
tures in  the  present  exhibition  give  me  great 
delight ;  one  in  particular,  by  Cogniet,  of 
Caius  Marius  on  the  ruins  of  Carthage.  It 
is  nearer  perfection  than  any,  either  ancient 
or  modern,  that  I  have  seen.  It  has  poetry 
in  every  inch  of  it.  The  exhibition  is  full 
of  beautiful  interiors  of  cathedrals,  con- 
vents, etc.,  and  a  great  many  in  the  style  of 
Wilkie  ;  but  their  portraits  are,  in  general, 
wretchedly  bad.  There  are  two  portraits 
by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  which  shine  like 
diamonds  among  rubbish.  Bowman  and  I 
joined  in  procuring  some  casts,  and  other 
materials  for  drawing. 

After  looking  through  the  Louvre,  we  took 
a  walk  through  the  Tuileries  gardens.  Here 
is  a  sight  that  is  worth  a  voyage  across  the 
Atlantic  to  see.  Although  the  season  of 
gayety  has  gone  by,  and  the  trees  are  leaf- 


146  CHESTER  HARDING. 


less,  yet  the  appearance  to  me  was  grand 
and  enchanting.  The  fine  groups  of  statues 
in  marble,  that  one  meets  at  every  turn,  are 
objects  of  no  little  interest  to  me.  Although 
it  was  Sunday,  we  saw  in  the  course  of  our 
walk  several  groups  of  children  singing  and 
dancing,  while  their  parents  and  friends 
looked  on  with  great  interest.  How  dif- 
ferent this  is  from  the  rigid  Puritanism  of 
the  Scotch !  Whether  it  be  right  or  wrong, 
I  will  not  attempt  to  say ;  but  this  much 
I  must  confess,  it  is  innocent  enjoyment  to 
them,  and  conducive  to  good  feeling  between 
the  children. 

I  am  all  impatience  to  get  to  painting 
again.  I  think  I  have  benefited  from  look- 
ing at  the  French,  as  well  as  the  antique, 
pictures.  Am  getting  on  a  little  in  my 
French. 

Wednesday^  December  1.  Dined  with  Mr. 
Brown.  At  six,  Washington  Irving,  Mr. 
Bowdoin,  Mr.  Prince,  and  Mr.  Finch  called 
for  me  with  a  carriage.  This  did  not  look 
like  a  dinner  "  without  ceremony."  Not  a 
little  astonished  to  find  eight  or  ten  ladies 
assembled  in  the  drawing  -  room.  Had  a 
sumptuous  dinner,  but  rather  stiff.  I  was 
seated  by  Lady  Harvey,  who  is  very  affected 
in  her  manners.    A  ludicrous  mistake  oc- 


V 


CHESTER  HARDING.  147 


curred  on  the  occasion  of  my  making  a  cere- 
monious call  upon  Mr.  Brown,  after  the  din- 
ner party.  It  was  raining  and  very  muddy  ; 
and,  as  I  stood  in  the  hall,  wiping  my  feet, 
I  said  to  the  porter,  by  way  of  practicing 
my  French,  "  II  fait  mauvais  temps."  He 
respectfully  replied,  "  Oui,  monsieur ;  "  and 
immediately  I  heard  Mons.  Mauvais 
Temps"  resounding  up  the  stairway  from 
one  servant  to  another,  to  the  great  amuse- 
ment of  the  party  in  the  parlor,  who,  as  soon 
as  they  saw  me,  comprehended  the  joke. 

Last  Saturday  night,  went  to  the  Italian 
opera  to  see  Othello."  The  character  of 
Desdemona,  by  Madame  Pasta,  was  the 
most  perfect  thing  possible  :  the  character 
of  Othello  was  also  admirably  played.  Al- 
though I  could  not  understand  the  language, 
yet  the  music  and  gesture  were  so  impressive 
that  I  could  hardly  contain  myself.  I  could 
scarcely  keep  my  seat  during  the  last  act : 
not  a  breath  was  heard  from  the  audience 
during  the  performance.  There  is  a  charm 
in  the  Italian  music  which  no  other  music 
possesses. 

Went  on  Saturday  to  the  Louvre.  The 
French  artists  have  more  merit  than  I  was 
at  first  disposed  to  give  them.  Their  knowl- 
edge of  anatomy  is  great :  they  draw  well. 


148  CHESTER  HARDING. 


and  perhaps  adhere  as  closely  to  nature  as 
the  English  in  point  of  color;  yet  they 
evince  a  want  of  taste  in  their  choice.  They 
generally  choose  the  coldest  light.  But  there 
is  often  a  want  of  harmony  about  their  pic- 
tures, as  if  their  heads  were  painted  in  one 
light,  the  hands  and  drapery  in  another. 

Tuesday^  December  7.  I  went  to  see  the 
grand  library  in  Rue  Richelieu  :  this  is  the 
finest  establishment  of  the  kind  I  have  seen. 
Went  also  to  see  the  model  of  the  great 
elephant,  commenced  by  Napoleon.  This  is 
about  fifty  feet  high  :  it  was  to  have  been 
of  bronze,  and  to  serve  as  a  fountain  to  sup- 
ply the  city,  or  a  part  of  it,  with  water. 

Wednesday^  December  8.  Bowman,  Hay- 
den,  and  myself  set  off  for  Versailles,  which 
is  twelve  miles  from  the  city.  We  first 
surveyed  the  grand  palace,  which  is  allowed 
by  all  to  be  the  finest  in  the  world.  To  go 
into  a  minute  detail  of  all  that  I  saw  there, 
would  be  the  work  of  a  day.  The  palace 
has  no  furniture  excepting  pictures.  The 
paintings  were  mostly  done  in  the  reign  of 
Louis  XIV.,  and  much  better  than  any  the 
present  age  can  produce.  We  then  visited 
the  Great  and  Little  Trianon.  The  gardens 
of  the  latter  are,  I  believe,  thirty  miles 
in  circumference.    The  fountains  are  very 


CHESTER  HARDING.  149 


numerous,  and  around  each  are  allegorical 
figures. 

Monday^  December  13.  Went  with  Bow- 
man to  view  Pere  la  Chaise,  the  common 
burying-ground  of  Catholic  citizens  of  Paris. 
The  most  ordinary  of  the  monuments  has 
something  tasteful,  either  in  the  workman- 
ship of  the  stone  or  the  decorations.  Gar- 
lands of  flowers  are  woven  around  the 
stones.  This  decorating  the  graves  of  de- 
parted friends  is  perhaps  a  weakness;  yet 
it  certainly  is  an  amiable  one,  and  can  have 
no  bad  effect.  On  the  contrary,  it  keeps 
alive  that  tender  feeling  of  respect  for  the 
memory  of  those  once  loved,  which  all  who 
live  are  so  ready  to  hope  for  when  they  shall 
be  numbered  amongst  the  dead. 

Tuesday^  December  14.  Determined  to 
go  to  London  this  week.  Went  to  see  the 
celebrated  painting  in  the  dome  of  St.  Gene- 
vieve Chapel,  or,  more  commonly  called,  the 
Pantheon,  by  Baron  du  Bos  (created  by 
Charles  X.).  It  is  a  masterpiece  of  art, 
very  difficult  to  execute  ;  but,  from  the  dis- 
tance at  which  we  were  obliged  to  view  it, 
it  had  a  distorted  and  unnatural  appear- 
ance. 

Bowman  and  I  now  went  to  view  the 
Louvre  for  the  last  time.    We  spent  about 


150  CHESTER  HARDING, 


three  hours  in  the  old  gallery.  I  continue 
to  like  and  dislike  the  same  pictures  I  did 
at  first,  particularly  the  one  I  have  before 
mentioned  —  of  Marius.  I  never  can  pass 
it  without  feeling  its  superior  worth,  —  with- 
out paying  adoration  to  it.  It  never  fails  to 
interest  and  give  me  pleasure. 

Thursday^  December  16.  Set  off  for  Lon- 
don. Landed  at  Dover  at  noon  on  Satur- 
day. When  the  English  custom-house  offi- 
cers came  on  board  the  steamer  to  inspect  the 
baggage  of  the  passengers,  their  suspicions 
fastened  upon  my  friend  Bowman.  They 
searched  his  trunk  thoroughly,  and  even  his 
pockets  ;  but  found  nothing  contraband,  and 
very  little  of  anything  else.  Then  came  my 
turn.  I  had  a  quantity  of  gloves,  and  many 
other  articles  that  were  liable  to  seizure  ; 
but  I  gave  them  my  key.  They  opened  the 
trunk,  looked  at  a  few  articles  of  dress  which 
lay  on  top,  and  passed  it.  Bowman  said  to 
me,  "You  were  born  to  good  luck."  He 
said  it  was  my  personal  appearance  which 
cleared  me  so  easily,  while  it  was  his  diminu- 
tive stature  which  aroused  their  suspicion  of 
him.  His  personal  appearance  was  certainly 
not  much  in  his  favor. 

Sunday^  December  19.  Visited  the  cathe- 
dral at  Canterbury.    Wandered  about  in 


CHESTER  HARDING.  151 


the  long,  echoing  aisles  in  silent  admiration. 
While  we  were  wrapped  in  silence  and 
thought,  the  grand  organ  began  to  chant. 
It  carried  me  to  sublimer  regions.  I  never 
heard  any  music  which  seemed  to  inspire 
me  with  religion  like  this.  It  produced  a 
pleasing,  melancholy  sensation,  such  as  I 
have  felt  in  days  long  gone  by,  when  under 
a  grove  of  our  native  pines,  listening  to  the 
hollow  moaning  of  the  breeze  as  it  found  its 
way  through  them. 

Monday^  December  20.  Arrived  in  town 
last  night,  about  eight. 

Saturday^  Christmas  Day.  This  is  a  dull 
day  with  me ;  no  one  to  go  and  take  a  fam- 
ily dinner  with.  The  very  preparation  of 
others  makes  me  unhappy.  How  foolish  it 
is  for  me  to  live  from  home  in  the  way  I  do  ! 
I  think  this  is  the  last  Christmas  I  will  spend 
apart  from  my  family. 

TO  c.  M.  H. 

London,  December  26,  1824. 
.  .  .  Mr.  Williams  has  a  portrait  of  his 
late  mother  by  my  old  master  Stuart ;  it  is 
his  last  picture,  and  by  no  means  his  worst. 
I  have  invariably  sounded  his  praise  as  an 
artist  of  the  first  distinction  and  merit,  and 
it  has  as  often  been  said  by  the  artists  and 


152 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


connoisseurs  here,  that  my  partiality  to  his 
pictures  grew  out  of  the  respect  I  enter- 
tained for  the  man,  and  for  the  rank  he 
held  in  America  as  an  artist.  But  I  have 
it  in  my  power  now  to  prove  that  my  opin- 
ion is  founded  in  reason  and  judgment. 
This  picture,  although  Stuart  was  never 
highly  thought  of  at  home  for  his  female 
portraits,  is  a  masterly  production,  and  will 
stand  the  test  of  a  comparison  with  Sir 
Thomas,  or  any  other  living  artist.  I  intend 
to  have  it  exhibited  this  year,  if  possible,  at 
Somerset  House. 

TO  s.  F.  L. 

London,  February  12,  1825. 

The  article  you  speak  of  in  "  Blackwood  ^' 
was  written  by  John  Neale.  .  .  . 

The  Duke  of  Sussex  and  Lady  Anson  con- 
tinue to  patronize  me  as  warmly  as  ever. 
This  is  very  gratifying  to  my  feelings.  I 
breakfast  and  dine  with  them  very  often. 
I  am  painting  a  large  half-length  for  the 
Duke  of  Hamilton.  I  feel  that  my  improve- 
ment is  great  within  the  last  nine  months. 
My  visit  to  Paris  was  of  great  service  to 
me  ;  I  saw  a  great  deal  in  the  way  of  art 
that  was  excellent,  as  well  among  the  mod- 
erns as  the  ancients,  and  although  I  did  not 


CHESTER  HARDING.  153 


paint  while  I  was  there,  yet  I  profited  by 
the  viewing  of  these  excellent  models. 

My  dear  fellow,  I  am  living  within  two 
doors  of  the  house  where  the  immortal  Rey- 
nolds lived  and  died.  Who  knows  but  there 
may  be  some  magic  in  the  atmosphere  around 
the  hallowed  spot?  If  so,  perchance  /may 
inhale  it,  and  like  him  cause  my  canvas  to 
breathe,  —  ahem  !  —  My  modesty  won't  al- 
low me  to  say  more,  nor  even  read  what  I 
have  written.  I  pay  enormously  high  for 
my  rooms,  $76  per  month.  This  is  a  high 
go,  but  neck  or  nothing  "  with  me,  you 
know.    The  situation  and  light  are  good. 

Friday^  February  18.  The  season  of 
gayety  is  fast  approaching  ;  but,  beyond  my 
profession,  what  does  it  signify  to  me  ?  Per- 
haps I  may  be  invited  now  and  then  to  a 
dinner  ;  but  it  is  very  annoying  frequently, 
when  there  is  no  annoyance  meant.  To  get 
into  a  hackney-coach  full  of  dirt  and  straw, 
with  one's  very  best  fix-up  on,  with  silk 
stockings  and  white  kid  gloves,  and  start  off 
to  a  dinner,  and  arrive,  perhaps,  just  as' my 
Lord's  carriage  and  turnout  are  setting 
down,  with,  perhaps,  my  Lady  So-or-so  wait- 
ing her  turn,  and  wondering  what  that  vul* 
gar  man  was  invited  for  to  intercept  her 


154  CHESTER  HABBING. 


passage,  is  rather  galling  to  one's  pride,  al- 
though he  be  a  republican  born  and  bred. 
This  is  a  good  sort  of  place  enough  for  a 
man  of  wealth  and  leisure.  He  will  always 
find  amusement  of  some  kind;  and  if  he 
wish  to  become  fashionable,  in  the  high 
sense  of  the  word,  this  is  his  place.  But  for 
a  man  who  has  to  depend  upon  his  hands 
for  his  bread,  whose  very  time  is  his  money, 
particularly  if  his  profession  be  of  an  intel- 
lectual nature,  it  is  no  place.  A  man  in  any 
profession  that  requires  mental  exertion  is 
kept  alive  by  the  cheering  applause  of  his 
friends.  He  needs  constant  encouragement 
from  them  ;  it  is  the  food  of  genius.  With- 
out it,  his  efforts  dwindle  into  mere  mechani- 
cal drudgery. 

Ah  !  who  can  tell  how  hard  it  is  to  climb 
The  steep  where  Fame's  proud  temple  shines  afar  ? 
Ah !  who  can  tell  how  many  a  soul  sublime 
Hath  felt  the  influence  of  malignant  star, 
And  waged  with  fortune  an  eternal  war  ; 
Checked  by  the  scoff  of  pride,  by  envy's  frown, 
And  poverty's  unconquerable  bar. 
In  life's  low  vale,  remote,  hath  pined  alone. 
Then  dropped  into  the  grave,  unpitied  and  unknown  ?  " 

Sunday^  February  27.  Two  months  of 
my  rent  have  gone  up,  and  I  have  not  done 
enough  to  pay  it  and  my  other  expenses ; 
but  I  hope  for  better  times. 


CHESTEE  HAEDING.  155 


The  duke  sat  on  Thursday  last,  and  was 
very  pleasant,  and  seemed  delighted  with 
the  picture.  He  thinks  I  have  made  won- 
derful progress  in  the  art  since  I  first 
painted  him.  So  I  have  ;  but  he  is  as  much 
pleased  with  the  flattery  in  the  last  picture 
as  he  is  with  my  improvement.  There  is 
not  a  human  being  on  earth  who  is  not  sus- 
ceptible to  flattery ;  and  he  who  flatters 
most  in  this  great  city  will  do  the  most 
judicious  thing. 

Tuesday.  Sent  the  duke  and  Mr.  Atkin- 
son to  the  exhibition  in  Suffolk  Street. 

Friday,  Dined  with  Mr.  Smith.  In  al- 
most all  the  dinner-parties  in  high  life  that 
I  have  attended,  I  have  seen  very  little  ease 
or  enjoyment  of  anything  beyond  the  bottle 
and  the  dinner.  The  company,  with  one  or 
two  exceptions,  are  exceedingly  on  their 
guard,  measuring  their  sentences  with  great 
care,  and  laughing  very  mechanically.  My 
impressions,  however,  may  be  influenced  by 
my  own  want  of  ease  and  enjoyment. 

While  we  were  at  the  table,  after  the 
ladies  had  retired,  we  separated  into  knots, 
some  talking  upon  political  economy,  some 
upon  religion,  some  upon  politics.  I  over- 
heard one  man,  who  was  a  member  of  Par- 
liament, say  that  it  was  believed  the  United 


156  CHESTER  HARDING. 


States  would  soon  be  divided  into  two  or 
more  separate  governments  ;  that  the  presi- 
dential election  would  be  the  great  cause. 
This  he  urged  against  universal  suffrage. 
But  as  I  was  not  of  his  little  squad,  I  did 
not  say  aught  to  the  contrary,  nor  even  pre- 
tend to  listen  to  him  :  he  did  not  know  I 
was  an  American. 

Monday^  April  4.  The  exhibition  in  Suf- 
folk Street  is  opened.  There  are  some  good 
pictures  ;  but  the  balance  is  so  much  against 
them  that  they  appear  but  indifferently. 

Bowman  had  sent  two  pictures  to  this 
exhibition;  and,  like  myself,  not  doubting 
but  they  would  find  a  good  situation  in  the 
best  room,  had  not  taken  the  trouble  to  in- 
quire after  them.  On  my  first  entering  the 
rooms,  I  looked  about,  but  saw  none  of  his 
in  the  little  room.  Well,  thought  I,  he  is 
at  least  in  the  large  room,  whether  they 
have  given  him  a  good  light  or  not ;  so  on 
I  pushed,  and  soon  encountered  my  own 
two  portraits  in  a  capital  light.  Now  for 
Friend  Bowman !  I  looked  about,  but  saw 
him  not ;  I  looked  again,  and  was  again  dis- 
appointed. Is  it  possible,  thought  I,  that 
they  have  rejected  him  ?  My  suspicions 
were  soon  confirmed  :  they  had  sent  his  pic- 
tures back  to  him  without  the  least  explana- 


CHESTER  HARDING.  157 


tion.  Now  one  of  the  most  painful  offices 
devolved  upon  me  a  man  can  have  to  per- 
form. I  had  promised  to  see  Bowman  that 
night,  and  tell  him  how  his  pictures  looked, 
what  sort  of  light  they  were  hung  in,  etc. 
The  hearing  the  fate  of  his  pictures  gave 
him,  I  believe,  less  pain  than  the  telling 
him  of  it  did  me. 

Having  made  up  my  mind  to  an  excur- 
sion to  Glasgow,  I  gave  Bowman  the  use  of 
my  lodgings,  and  set  off  by  the  coach  im- 
mediately. Passed  through  Dumfries.  This 
is  where  the  mortal  remains  of  "  Nature's 
sweetest  poet "  lie  buried.  The  coach  stopped 
but  for  twenty-five  minutes,  the  usual  time 
allowed  to  passengers  for  refreshment.  This 
time,  short  as  it  was,  I  preferred  to  spend 
in  feasting  my  mind  and  imagination.  The 
churchyard  was  at  least  three  minutes' 
walk,  or,  I  should  say,  run,  from  the  inn ; 
for  I  went  with  such  speed  through  the 
streets  as  to  astonish  the  good  people  I  met. 
When  I  arrived  at  the  churchyard,  I  found 
an  old  woman  ready  to  let  me  in  at  once, 
and  I  lost  no  time  in  letting  her  know  that 
I  preferred  looking  about  me  to  her  pra- 
ting ;  by  which  means  I  was  shown  at  once 
to  the  spot  I  had  so  longed  to  see.  This 
was  consecrated  ground,  where  I  was  dis- 


158  CHESTER  HARDING. 


posed  to  linger,  and  forget  all  earthly  things 
in  the  contemplation  of  the  heavenly  part 
of  him  who  lay  entombed  beneath  my  feet. 
The  monument  is  simple  and  beautiful,  and 
the  death-like  stillness  of  everything  about 
me  led  me  into  a  delightful  train  of  thought. 
While  I  was  lost  to  everything  external,  I 
heard  the  grating  sound  of  a  horn,  the  dis- 
cordant effect  of  which  sent  a  chill  through 
my  veins.  I  wished  that  confounded  horn 
and  its  owner  to  the  dogs.  But  it  was  for- 
tunate for  me  that  I  heard  it ;  for  it  proved 
to  be  the  bugle  of  the  guard,  who  was  sum- 
moning the  passengers  to  their  seats.  So, 
after  being  fairly  brought  to  myself  again, 
I  looked  at  my  watch,  and  found  that  I  had 
stayd  the  full  length  of  my  allotted  time  ; 
and  it  was  only  by  the  same  speed  I  made 
in  going  to,  that  I  made  in  going  from,  the 
inn  that  I  reached  it  before  the  coach  left. 

On  this  journey,  I  met  with  an  amusing 
instance  of  sycophancy.  The  day  before  I 
arrived  in  Glasgow,  I  had  the  misfortune 
to  fall  in  with  a  title  -  worshiper,  and  was 
obliged  to  ride  by  his  side  all  day.  In  the 
course  of  the  day,  an  officer  got  on  the  seat 
with  the  driver,  which  led  this  companion 
of  mine  to  turn  his  attention  considerably 
towards   him.     He  was   conjecturing  the 


CHESTEE  HABDING,  159 


probable  rank  of  the  officer,  when  I  hap- 
pened to  espy  a  sword-case,  marked  Captain 
Sir  Something,  which  I  pointed  out  to  my 
friend.  The  moment  he  saw  it,  he  ejacu- 
lated in  broad  Scotch,  "  My  God !  he 's  a 
nobleman."  This  was  enough  for  Sawney. 
Now  how  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  no- 
bleman was  his  only  care.  He,  however,  be- 
ing richly  endowed  with  the  sagacity  for 
which  his  countrymen  are  so  noted,  soon 
hit  upon  the  surest  means  of  effecting  his 
object.  He  flattered  the  officer;  laughed 
at  all  his  stale  jokes  ;  was,  in  short,  every- 
thing the  nobleman  could  have  wished.  At 
dinner,  there  was  a  good  opportunity  to 
show  off,  and  the  Scotchman  took  advantage 
of  it.  He  teased  him  to  death  by  pressing 
him  to  take  this  or  that.  He  was,  at  least, 
a  bore  to  all  but  the  officer.  The  time  at 
length  arrived  when  the  "  nobleman  "  was 
to  take  his  leave  of  us.  I  will  not  attempt 
to  describe  the  chagrin  the  poor  Scotchman 
evinced  when  he  found  the  man  had  gone, 
—  but  the  sword-case  was  left  behind !  All 
he  could  say  was,  "  My  God !  and  he 's  no 
nobleman  after  a'." 


160  CHESTER  HAEDING. 


TO  C.  M.  H. 

Glasgow,  April  14,  1825. 
Dear  Wife,  —  You  will  no  doubt  be  a 
good  deal  surprised  to  find  that  I  am  again 
in  the  "  land  o'  cakes."  It  was  one  of  my 
sudden  moves.  I  made  up  my  mind  upon 
the  subject  within  the  space  of  ten  minutes 
after  the  thing  first  occurred  to  me.  You 
will  recollect  that  I  painted  a  few  heads 
when  I  was  here  last  autumn.  They  gave 
so  much  satisfaction  that  I  was  invited  by 
several  of  the  friends  of  those  that  I  painted 
to  return  to  Glasgow,  at  the  same  time  ac- 
companying the  request  with  the  promise  of 
several  pictures.  It  certainly  was  not  the 
proper  time  to  leave  London,  but  the  fine 
weather  and  the  probability  of  my  being 
rather  idle  until  after  the  opening  of  Somer- 
set House,  together  with  the  love  of  the  root 
of  all  evil,  had  their  influence,  and  I  was 
not  long  in  determining  to  set  off.  I  arrived 
here  on  Saturday  last.  I  have  been  here 
but  three  days,  have  got  rooms,  and  com- 
menced pictures  to  the  amount  of  $600,  and 
shall  begin  another  to-morrow,  which  cer- 
tainly augurs  well.  It  is  most  gratifying  to 
know  that  my  pictures  are  approved  of  after 
a  six  months'  contemplation.    Not  infre- 


CHESTER  HARDING.  161 


quently  the  interest  in  a  picture  wears  off 
with  its  novelty,  but  it  seems  quite  the  re- 
verse with  those  I  left  in  Glasgow. 

April  7,  took  up  my  abode  with  Walker 
in  Buchanan  Street.  In  the  course  of  six 
weeks  I  realized  c£360. 

During  this  short  but  profitable  visit,  I 
received  great  attention  from  several  of  the 
first  families  in  the  place.  My  friends,  the 
Messrs.  Pattison,  were  unceasing  in  their 
attentions.  Professor  Davidson  and  others 
were  also  very  kind.  I  was  invited  to  a 
dinner  given  by  the  college  club  to  Mr. 
Dunn.  Here  I  was  placed  in  an  embarrass- 
ing situation.  The  company,  to  the  number 
of  twenty  -  four,  were  very  merry ;  toasting 
the  college  club,  the  corporation  of  Glasgow, 
and  many  other  public  institutions,  when 
Mr.  Davidson  rose,  and  proposed  as  a  toast, 
"  Success  to  the  fine  arts,  and  the  health  of 
Mr.  Harding."  This,  coming  so  unexpect- 
edly, threw  me  completely  off  my  balance. 
I,  however,  thanked  them  for  the  honorable 
mention  they  had  been  pleased  to  make  of 
me.  Pretty  soon,  the  president  of  the  col- 
lege, a  reverend  doctor,  began  a  long  speech 
by  saying  that,  until  that  moment,  he  did 
not  know  that  they  had  the  honor  of  a  dis- 


162 


CHESTEIl  HARDING, 


tinguished  artist  and  a  foreigner  at  their 
dinner.  He  concluded  by  proposing  more 
directly,  "  The  health  of  Mr.  Harding." 
Then  followed  a  round  of  applause.  This 
was  ten  times  more  embarrassing  than  the 
former  ;  and  I  could  only  say  "  that  I  felt 
most  sensibly  the  honor  they  had  done 
me,  and  begged  to  return  them  my  sincere 
thanks."  I  thought,  when  the  venerable 
doctor  had  concluded  his  eloquent  speech, 
that  I  would  attempt  to  address  the  com- 
pany, and  say  something  more  than  merely 
"  Thank  ye ; "  but  the  solemnity  of  rising 
disconcerted  me  so  much  that  I  hardly 
knew  whether  I  spoke  or  only  whispered. 

Many  portraits  are  partly  promised,  in 
case  I  should  return. 

It  was  during  this  visit  that  I  made  up 
my  mind  to  send  for  my  family,  and  make 
Glasgow  my  home. 

Now,  being  very  anxious  to  see  the  exhibi- 
tions in  London,  I  closed  my  engagements 
here,  and  set  off  again  for  that  city.  I  took 
barely  money  enough  to  pay  my  way  on  the 
most  economical  basis ;  but,  as  I  have  never 
yet  learned  to  act»upon  that  basis,  I  got  my- 
self into  a  sad  dilemma.  At  Nottingham,  I 
had  to  pay  my  fare  to  London,  which  was 
just  two  pounds ;  but,  as  I  was  reduced  to 


CHESTER  HABDING.  163 


just  that  sum,  I  should  have  no  change  for  re- 
freshments, or  for  the  guard  and  coachman. 
So  I  paid  one  pound,  and  left  the  other  to 
be  paid  on  my  arrival  in  town.  1  got  on 
very  well  until  we  arrived  at  the  mail-stage 
office  in  Islington :  here  I  got  off  the  coach, 
and  ordered  my  portmanteau  into  the  inn, 
and  went  to  the  bar,  and  asked  the  landlady 
to  let  me  have  a  pound,  at  which  she  seemed 
somewhat  astonished ;  nor  would  she  comply 
with  my  request  until  the  guard  became 
responsible  to  her  for  that  sum,  although 
she  had  my  trunk.  I  got  the  pound  at  last, 
and  paid  the  remainder  of  my  fare  ;  and 
the  coach  drove  off  to  the  merry  notes  of 
the  bugle. 

I  went  to  the  bar,  and  asked  the  bar-maid 
to  show  me  my  room  ;  but,  lo !  I  could  get 
no  bed  at  all,  as  she  said  they  were  full. 
Here  was  a  pretty  business,  —  my  trunk  in 
pawn,  no  money,  and  not  a  very  preposses- 
sing appearance,  as  I  had  not  shaved,  nor 
changed  my  linen,  for  three  days.  I,  how- 
ever, set  off  in  quest  of  another  inn,  though 
the  idea  of  again  exposing  myself  to  the 
scrutinizing  gaze  of  that  beggarly  race  of 
waiters  was  not  the  most  pleasant.  But 
there  was  no  alternative  ;  so  I  bolted  into 
the  bar  of  the  Angel  Inn,  with,  as  I  thought, 


164 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


a  confident  manner,  and  asked  the  head- 
waiter  to  give  me  a  bed.       Directly,  sir." 

But,"  said  I,  you  will  oblige  me,  if 
you  will  let  me  have  a  pound  to  redeem  my 
portmanteau."  The  waiter  looked  very  cau- 
tiously at  me,  but,  after  some  hesitation, 
called  the  boots,"  and  said,  "  Here,  take 
this  pound,  and  go  with  the  gentleman,  and 
pay  for  his  trunk,  and  bring  it  here."  As 
soon  as  we  arrived  at  the  inn  again,  I  called 
for  pen,  ink,  and  paper ;  at  which  brief  de- 
mand they  all  seemed  to  stare  with  great 
amazement.  They  obeyed,  however,  and  I 
was  soon  shown  into  my  room.  When  I 
called  for  the  writing  materials,  I  thought 
I  would  write  a  line  to  Mr.  Williams,  but 
changed  my  mind,  and  went  to  bed. 

I  had  not  been  there  many  minutes  before 
I  heard  stocking-feet  steps  at  or  near  my 
door,  and  I  soon  guessed  at  their  object.  I 
could  hear  them  say,  "  Oh !  he 's  gone  to 
bed."  The  next  morning,  a  servant  came 
early  into  my  room  with,  "  Did  you  ring, 
sir?"  but  evidently  to  see  if  I  had  not 
made  way  with  myself  ;  and  really,  when  I 
came  to  look  at  myself  by  daylight,  in  the 
glass,  I  did  not  so  much  wonder  at  their 
suspicions.  I  was  shockingly  sunburnt,  with 
a  long  beard,  and  altogether  a  frightful 


CHESTER  HARDING,  165 


object.  Before  I  went  down,  however,  I 
shaved,  and  put  on  some  clean  linen.  The 
good  folks  of  the  inn  no  longer  stared  at 
me,  but  were  rather  civil,  particularly  after 
I  had  returned  from  Mr.  Williams,  with  my 
hands  full  of  banknotes. 

I  now  took  a  coach  for  my  lodgings.  Dur- 
ing my  absence,  Bowman  had  collected  al- 
most all  the  pictures  he  had  painted  in  Eng- 
land, and  strewed  them  about  the  rooms  ; 
and  had  left  them  to  their  fate.  He  was  in 
such  despair  that  he  kept  aloof  from  all 
respectable  society. 

I  set  off  directly  for  the  Somerset  House. 
As  it  had  opened  during  my  absence,  I  felt 
the  greatest  impatience  to  see  the  paintings. 
I  did  not  feel  that  degree  of  anxiety  about 
my  own  pictures  that  I  did  the  year  before, 
as  I  knew  where  they  were  placed  ;  still  I 
was  very  desirous  to  see  how  they  stood 
the  comparison  with  other  pictures.  I  was 
happy  to  think  that  they  were  among  the 
hest^  not  the  worst,  class  in  the  exhibition. 
I  must  say  that  I  looked  at  them  with  as 
much,  and  perhaps  the  same  kind  of,  pride 
as  a  mother  feels  in  looking  at  her  beautiful 
daughter  on  her  presentation  at  court.  It  . 
filled  me  with  laudable  ambition  to  excel ; 
but  I  can  here  solemnly  aver,  that  envy  or 


166  CHESTER  HARDING. 


jealousy  of  any  other  artist's  talents  or  em- 
inence never  entered  into  my  mind.  I  never 
felt  a  greater  pleasure  in  my  profession  than 
then.  It  is  a  noble  art,  thought  I ;  it  is,'  of 
all  others  in  the  world,  the  most  delightful. 
But  here  the  thought  of  my  friend  Bowman 
broke  in  upon  my  delight.  Poor  fellow  !  he 
had  sent  four  pictures  to  Somerset  House, 
—  the  two  that  were  rejected  at  Suffolk 
Street  and  two  new  ones  ;  but,  sad  to  relate, 
they  were  all  condemned  as  unworthy  a 
place.  This  was  certainly  a  disagreeable 
shade  in  the  delightful  pictures  I  had  just 
been  drawing  of  the  profession.  Here  was 
Bowman,  by  two  years  my  senior  in  the  art, 
and  who  had  ever  since  his  commencement 
been  flattered,  and  taught  to  believe  that  he 
was  a  wonderful  genius  ;  and  now,  after 
eight  or  nine  years  of  hard  study,  his  hopes 
are  blasted  in  this  cruel  manner.  I  sat  upon 
a  bench  for  —  God  knows  how  long,  look- 
ing into  vacancy,  and  thinking  painfidly  of 
the  discouragements  of  the  artist.  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  he  too  was  not  free  from 
perplexities. 

My  absence  from  London,  though  short, 
•    had,  I  found,  broken  up  my  connections  in 
a  great  degree.    Some  of  my  friends  (I 
should  say  patrons)   were   about  leaving 


CHESTER  HABDING. 


167 


town.  Others  had  much  to  say  of  the  gaye- 
ties  of  the  past  season  ;  of  their  thankful- 
ness that  it  was  over  ;  of  their  wretched, 
haggard  faces,  and  similar  subjects,  unfavor- 
able to  that  branch  of  the  fine  arts  which 
depends  mainly  upon  the  vanity  of  mankind 
for  its  support.  So  I  concluded  to  spend 
a  few  weeks  looking  at  the  works  of  art,  and 
then  return  to  Glasgow. 

August  9.  Left  London,  with  all  my  im- 
plements of  painting.  This  was  not  effected 
without  some  regret.  London  never  looked 
more  charming  than  it  did  just  then,  al- 
though everybody  was  out  of  town.  The 
idea  of  bidding  it  adieu,  perhaps  an  eternal 
one,  was  painful.  I  don't  know  how  it  is, 
but  I  feel  a  great  attachment  to  the  great 
metropolis,  inhospitable  as  it  is.  It  is  the 
fountain-head  of  everything  that  is  excellent 
in  my  profession,  as  well  as  every  means  of 
attaining  excellence  in  it.  But  I  took  my 
seat  on  the  top  of  a  coach  ;  and,  in  the  noisy 
bustle  about  the  coach-office,  and  the  amus- 
ing variety  one  always  meets  with  on  such 
occasions,  I  set  off  in  very  good  spirits. 

Safely  arrived  in  Glasgow,  I  began  the 
arduous  task  of  finding  apartments.  I  then 
collected  a  few  of  my  old  pictures,  which, 
added  to  those  I  had  brought  down  from 


168  CHESTER  HABDING. 


London,  made  a  tolerable  exhibition.  But 
work  was  slow  to  come.  Day  after  day  I 
spent  in  contemplating  my  beautiful  light, 
which  I  had  been  at  six  pounds'  expense  in 
cutting  out  of  the  roof.  I  found  some  re- 
lief, however,  in  furnishing  my  house,  in 
expectation  of  the  arrival  of  my  family.  Be- 
fore I  left  Glasgow  for  London,  while  I  was 
very  busy,  dozens  were  talking  of  sitting, 
and  three  positively  agreed  to  sit  on  my  re- 
turn ;  but  I  find  they  have  changed  their 
mind.  Should  I  again  be  pressed  with  more 
than  I  can  attend  to,  no  doubt  they  will  be 
as  anxious  as  at  first  to  have  their  pictures 
taken.  How  fickle  are  people  of  quality,  as 
they  consider  themselves,  in  regard  to  mat- 
ters of  taste ! 

TO  S.  F.  L. 

29  MiLLEK  Street,  Glasgow,  October,  1825. 
Dear  Lyman,  —  I  now  sit  down  to  ac- 
knowledge the  receipt  of  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren, who  came  safe  to  hand  on  the  24th 
of  September.  After  I  had  come  to  the 
determination  to  send  for  them,  I  was  very 
impatient  for  their  arrival.  I  thought  more 
about  them  in  the  two  months'  interval  be- 
tween my  first  decision  and  their  arrival 
than  I  had  in  the  whole  two  years  previous ; 


CHESTER  HABDING. 


169 


for  while  I  was  passing  the  allotted  time  of 
probation  in  my  pursuit  of  professional 
knowledge,  I  did  not  allow  myself  to  think 
of  my  family  as  a  treasure  to  be  enjoyed 
until  the  expiration  of  my  two  years,  there- 
fore it  had  become  to  me  a  dream  of  future 
happiness,  like  fortune  or  renown,  a  some- 
thing that  was  to  be  the  reward  of  voluntary 
exile.  But  after  having  determined  upon 
their  coming  out,  and  more  particularly  after 
receiving  a  letter  in  reply  to  my  invitation, 
I  was  all  impatience.  I  began  first  to  count 
the  weeks,  and  then  the  days,  and  then  the 
hours  that  separated  us. 

I  received  a  letter  from  my  wife,  on  her 
arrival  at  Liverpool,  telling  me  of  her  safe 
voyage,  and  her  intended  departure  from 
Liverpool  on  the  steamboat  City  of  Glas- 
gow ;  so,  on  my  arrival  at  Greenock,  I 
began  to  look  for  the  boat,  and  soon  had  the 
delight  of  seeing  her.  My  impatience  to 
know  if  my  family  were  on  board  was  almost 
beyond  control.  A  few  revolutions  of  the 
heavy  wheels  brought  us  alongside  of  the 
object  my  eyes  had  been,  for  the  last  hour, 
so  steadily  riveted  upon.  I  then  saw  my 
wife,  and  waved  my  hand  to  her ;  but  we 
kept  out  of  speaking  distance  for  some  time. 


170 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


Daring  this  short  interval,  the  risible  mus- 
cles of  my  face  became  excessively  painful, 
from  the  great  effort  it  cost  me  to  suppress 
a  downright  schoolboy  laugh. 

Then  came  the  meeting,  —  then  followed 
ten  thousand  inquiries  after  one  and  another, 
in  such  rapid  succession  that  one  could  not 
be  answered  before  another  was  asked.  We 
directly  went  aboard  a  Glasgow  boat,  and 
in  three  hours  arrived  in  safety  at  my  own 
lodgings. 

I  now  took  up  my  abode  in  Glasgow,  with 
my  family  around  me ;  and  should  have 
been  perfectly  happy,  if  I  could  have  seen 
my  way  clear  for  gaining  a  support  for 
them.  I  had  no  work  on  hand,  and  the 
trade  of  the  community  was  seriously  de- 
pressed, while  there  was  little  prospect  of 
any  immediate  renewal ;  so  that  I  sometimes 
wished  I  had  gone  to,  instead  of  sending  for, 
my  family.  Fortunately  for  me,  several  of 
my  friends  interested  themselves  in  my  be- 
half, and  got  for  me  an  order  to  paint  a  full- 
length  portrait  of  the  "  Deacon  Convener  of 
Trades,"  who  was  a  very  popular  man.  I 
was  successful  in  my  work,  and  exhibited 
with  eclat.  This  brought  me  many  sitters : 
indeed,  for  five  or  six  months  I  was  kept 
constantly  employed. 


CHESTER  HARDING.  171 


I  painted  many  of  my  best  pictures  at 
this  time  ;  but,  I  found  as  my  anxieties  for 
my  family  increased,  my  enthusiasm  for  my 
art  decreased.  At  times  I  felt  a  strong  de- 
sire to  go  to  Italy ;  but  how  could  I  leave 
my  wife  and  four  children  ?  Sir  J oshua 
Reynolds  was  right  when  he  said  a  painter's 
ynfe  or  mistress  should  be  his  lay-figure,  and 
his  art  should  be  his  first  and  only  love. 

The  summer  following  (1826)  was  the 
most  disastrous  to  all  branches  of  business 
that  had  ever  been  known  in  the  king- 
dom. Nearly  every  country  bank  failed ; 
and  a  universal  panic  seized  the  public 
mind,  spreading  through  all  classes  of  soci- 
ety. I  was  out  of  business :  no  one  wanted 
pictures  while  this  excitement  lasted,  and  no 
one  could  tell  when  it  would  end.  I  thought 
seriously  of  returning  to  America,  and  con- 
sulted the  Duke  of  Hamilton  about  my 
plans.  He  at  first  favored  my  going  to 
Edinburgh ;  but,  after  weighing  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, he  finally  agreed  that  I  was 
right,  telling  me  I  could  return  when  the 
condition  of  the  country  was  more  prosper- 
ous.^  This  interview  settled  the  question.  I 

1  In  a  farewell  letter  to  Mr.  Harding,  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton  writes  :  Nature  with  an  indulgent  hand  has 
given  you  much  ;  much  you  have  acquired  by  your  own 


172 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


finished  what  pictures  I  had  on  the  easel, 
collected  what  money  was  due  me,  and  left 
Glasgow  for  Liverpool. 

I  had  to  take  leave  of  many  good  and 
true  friends,  which  was  a  sore  trial :  among 
them  were  James  Sheridan  Knowles,  John 
Pattison,  —  one  of  nature's  noblemen,  —  and 
njany  others,  all  of  whom  wished  me  God- 
speed. 

This  step  was  not  taken  without  the  most 
painful  regrets.  No  artist  had  a  fairer 
prospect  of  rising  to  the  highest  rank  in  his 
profession,  with  such  patrons  as  the  Dukes 
of  Sussex  and  Hamilton,  and  many  other 
influential  persons  ;  and  with  Lady  Anson's 
unwavering  friendship.  But  I  could  not 
live  through  the  universal  prostration  of 
business.  I  was  influenced  in  my  decision 
even  more  by  another  consideration.  I  had 
three  daughters,  nine,  seven,  and  three  years 
old.  They  were  very  pretty.  Should  they, 
when  they  grew  up,  fulfill  the  promise  of 
their  childhood,  I  felt  they  would  be  ex- 
posed to  dangers  growing  out  of  the  state  of 
society  in  England  which  they  would  be  f  ree 
from  at  home.  My  profession  entitled  me 
to  move  in  the  highest  circles,  in  which,  at 

labor  and  industry,  and  I  shall  rejoice  to  learn  that  genius 
and  assiduity  have  been  deservedly  remunerated." 


CHESTER  HARDING.  173 


the  same  time,  my  wife  and  children  would 
not  be  recognized.  This  is  one  of  the  cruel 
customs  of  the  aristocracy  of  Great  Brit- 
ain. 

We  were  weather-bound  in  Liverpool ;  but 
the  impatience  that  I  naturally  felt  at  my 
compulsory  stay  was  much  alleviated  by  the 
kindness  of  Mr.  Roscoe,  whose  acquaintance 
I  made  through  a  letter  from  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton.  He  was  very  kind  and  attentive, 
and  showed  me  everything  that  was  of  any 
interest  in  the  city.  Among  other  things,  he 
took  me  to  see  Mr.  Audubon's  collection  of 
birds,  which  he  had  just  brought  with  him 
from  America.  I  saw  all  the  original  paint- 
ings, and  very  beautiful  they  were. 

After  two  weeks'  weary  watching  of  the 
weathercock,  the  wind  changed  at  last,  and 
we  put  out  to  sea  about  the  first  of  Septem- 
ber. 

No  pen  can  describe  the  pleasure  we  felt 
when,  after  an  uncomfortable  passage  of 
forty  days,  we  sailed  into  Boston  harbor. 

It  was  Sunday ;  and  with  a  fair,  light 
breeze  and  bright  sun,  the  scene  was  en- 
chanting. All  the  annoyances  of  the  voyage 
were  forgotten  :  seasickness  and  head-winds 
were  as  though  they  had  not  been.  As  I 
took  a  parting  look  at  the  good  ship  To- 


174  CHESTER  HAEDING. 


paz,  I  could  not  but  feel  grateful  to  her,  as 
though  she  had  been  "  a  thing  of  life,"  for 
the  part  she  had  taken  in  bringing  us 
through  so  many  storms.  Her  ultimate  fate 
cosfc  me  a  sigh,  when  I  heard  of  it.  Her 
next  voyage  was  to  India,  where  she  was 
captured  and  burnt  by  pirates. 

After  reeling  about  awhile  on  the  wharf, 
a  store  or  counting-room  was  opened  ;  and 
we  staggered  up  a  long  flight  of  stairs,  like 
so  many  intoxicated  persons.  We  took  a 
carriage,  and  drove  to  the  Exchange  Hotel. 
What  a  luxury  it  was  to  sit  down  to  dinner, 
and  find  the  dishes  and  tumblers  keep  their 
places ! 

I  walked  out  with  the  children.  Every- 
thing had  a  diminutive  appearance.  The 
Common  was  not  what  it  used  to  be  in  old 
times.  The  children  took  but  little  interest 
in  what  they  saw ;  but  they  had  one  wonder 
to  tell  their  mother  of,  that  they  had  not 
seen  a  single  beggar.  I  met  many  old 
friends,  who  gave  me  a  hearty  welcome 
home. 


CHESTER  HARDING.  175 


TO  CHESTER  HARDING. 

ON   HIS  DEPARTURE  FROM  BRITAIN  FOR  AMER- 
ICA. 

Son  of  another  shore!    We  bid  thee  not 
To  linger  longer  in  this  alien  land,  — 
Alien  in   nought  but   distance,  —  while  thy 
thought, 

Anticipating  Time,  doth  to  the  strand 
Of  thy  far  Father-home  waft  thee  away  : 
Ours  be  the  fond  farewells  that  say  not  "  Stay  !  " 
But 't  is  because  we  love  the  World's  Young 
Hojoe, 

Thy  country,  more  than  even  we  love  thee, 
That  we  do  seek  not  to  transplant  a  lop 
From  her  yet  budding  boughs  of  Art's  green  tree 
Into  our  earth,  though  yet  we  trust  it  drew 
Some  healthful  nurture  from  our  older  soil. 
No,  Harding,  no  —  of  such  she  yet  hath  few : 
Go,  —  and  enrich  her  with  triumphant  toil ! 

James  Sheridan  Knowles. 

July,  1826. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Upon  his  return  from  Scotland  Mr.  Hard- 
ing's family  spent  a  few  months  in  North- 
ampton, Mass.,  among  their  old  friends,  and 
then  rejoined  him  in  Boston.  Upon  their 
arrival  he  writes  to  his  friend  S.  F.  Lyman  : 

Boston,  February  8,  1827. 

My  dear  Lyman,  —  On  Thursday,  the 
first  instant,  I  received  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren, all  in  good  condition.  I  had  a  lodg- 
ing provided  where  I  took  them  on  the  night 
of  their  arrival.  I  was  not  the  only  one 
delighted  by  this  event ;  the  children  were 
frantic  with  delight :  they  laughed  and  cried 
and  chattered  like  magpies.  I  am  now  a 
good,  steady,  fatherly  old  man  once  more, 
and  I  can  assure  you  that  I  am  much  hap- 
pier in  all  respects  than  before. 

As  to  financial  matters,  my  dear  friend, 
I  can  say  that  I  am  doing  tolerably  well. 
Since  I  commenced  I  have  painted  to  the 
amount  of  $1,400,  and  I  have  little  doubt 
that  my  business  will  increase  rather  than 


CHESTER  HARDING.  177 

diminish.  I  find  my  pictures  give  satisfac- 
tion, and  if  I  am  not  gaining  popularity  to 
the  degree  that  I  did  when  I  was  here  be- 
fore, I  feel  that  I  am  gaining  fame,  which 
is  a  thousand  times  preferablce  It  is  rather 
against  me  that  I  created  such  an  excite- 
ment then,  —  an  interest  that  could  not  by 
any  human  exertion  be  kept  alive.  I  am 
identified  with  my  former  pictures,  and  as 
they  are  not  worthy  the  high  encomiums 
that  were  passed  upon  them,  the  natural 
consequence  is  a  reaction,  which  I  have  to 
contend  with  ;  but  perseverance  will  do  won- 
ders. 

My  dear  fellow.  I  have  bid  adieu  to 
Northampton  for  a  while.  My  present  plan 
is  to  buy  a  house  in  Boston,  and  run  the 
risk  of  paying  for  it  by  and  by.  Mr.  Soli- 
citor Davis  says  that  the  only  money  he  is 
worth  was  made  by  being  in  debt.  He 
therefore  recommended  to  me  the  same 
course. 

Why  don't  you  visit  the  great  seat  of 
learning  this  winter  ?  Come  down  while 
Macready  is  here.    He  is  expected  soon. 

I  am  painting  Judge  Robbins  and  his 
lady.    Do  let  me  hear  from  you  often. 

Adieu.  Chester  Harding. 


178 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


TO  S.  F.  L. 

At  Home,  No.  9  Cedar  Street. 

.  .  .  You  will  perhaps  want  to  know  how 
much  rent  I  pay.  I  have  taken  a  house  for 
two  years  at  1400  per  year,  with  the  priv- 
ilege of  vacating  it  at  the  expiration  of  one, 
by  paying  twenty-five  dollars  extra.  We  are 
within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  Misses  Cabot, 
and  very  near  Mrs.  Eliot  and  Mrs.  Minot,  all 
of  whom  are  pleasant  neighbors,  you  know. 

I  am  happy  to  tell  you  that  my  profes- 
sional labors  have  increased  rather  than 
otherwise,  and  that,  in  spite  of  the  cost  of 
furnishing,  I  have  still  a  little  left  to  feed 
upon  in  case  of  a  "  rainy  day." 

I  have  written  to  Mr.  Hale  of  Quebec  to 
let  him  know  that  if  he  is  still  desirous  that 
I  should  visit  his  ancient  city  I  will  do  so. 

TO  s.  F.  L. 

Montreal,  June  24,  1827. 

Dear  Lyman,  —  It  is  not  long  since  you 
had  a  line  from  me  dated  Boston,  informing 
you  of  my  intention  of  visiting  H.  M.  domin- 
ions, in  the  hope  of  combining  profit  and 
pleasure ;  but  how  far  I  shall  realize  either 
I  am  not  prepared  to  say.  I  must  confess, 
however,  that  the  pleasure  of  traveling  in 
this  province  is  not  so  unalloyed  as  that  of 


CHESTER  HARDING,  179 


traveling  througli  the  mother  country.  I 
have  met  with  more  arrogance,  illiberality, 
and  willful  error  on  all  subjects  relative  to 
the  States,  in  the  short  time  that  I  have  been 
here,  than  I  met  with  during  my  three  years' 
visit  in  England.  Not  to  speak  of  the  lux- 
ury of  good  roads,  good  carriages,  and  good 
accommodation  at  inns,  etc.,  there  is  no- 
thing to  be  seen  of  improvement  in  agricul- 
ture, nor  in  any  of  the  fine  or  useful  arts. 
The  farms  are  miserably  tilled,  the  dwel- 
lings are  inconvenient,  with  bad  out-houses, 
if  any  at  all ;  and  this  want  of  thrift  per- 
vades almost  all  classes  of  farmers,  Cana- 
dian as  well  as  Europeans.  I  see  no  hope 
of  its  becoming  better  under  the  present 
subjection  to  the  mother  country.  If  you 
are  in  compan}^  with  an  Englishman,  no 
matter  what  his  pretensions  may  be,  he  is 
always  talking  of  home,  — "  We  do  these 
things  differently  at  home."  Not  a  single 
individual  have  I  met  who  does  not  consider 
himself  in  a  state  of  temporary  exile  ;  they 
don't  care  a  straw  what  becomes  of  the  coun- 
try if  they  get  their  ends  answered.  No 
man  cares  about  internal  improvements,  no 
individual,  I  should  say,  for  certainly  the 
crown  is  expending  some  thousands  yearly 
on  canals  and  fortifications,  and  the  only  in- 


180  CHESTER  HARDING. 


terest  the  individuals  resident  here  seem  to 
take  in  the  disbursements  is  in  securing  to 
themselves  a  large  share  of  the  money.  Now 
I  hold  this  state  of  things  to  be  incompat- 
ible with  a  thriving  and  well-founded  gov- 
ernment. 

I  have  spent  a  week  with  my  old  comrade 

B  ,  who  lives  about  twenty  miles  above 

the  city.  He  has  bought  a  farm  of  eighty 
acres  and  is  wasting  some  money  in  im- 
provements upon  it.  It  would  baffle  the  skill 
of  a  veteran  farmer  to  bring  it  into  any- 
thing like  a  thriving  or  wholesome  state. 
It  is  completely  overrun  with  thistles,  and 
besides,  the  Canadians  have  no  conception 
of  renovating  land  by  manure.  Their  sys- 
tem is  to  cart  the  manure  that  is  made  in 
their  barn-yards,  on  the  ice,  before  the  river 
breaks  up  in  the  spring,  that  it  may  be 
washed  out  of  the  way.  After  such  a  prac- 
tice for  a  hundred  years,  what  can  you  ex- 
pect of  a  farm  ? 

What  a  stupendous  river  the  St.  Law- 
rence is !  If  its  banks  were  peopled  by  an 
independent  and  enterprising  population, 
there  would  be  no  counting  the  wealth  that 
would  flow  down  upon  its  surface.  There 
would  soon  be  canals  large  enough  for 
steamboats  to  pass  from  the  Gulf  of  St. 


CHESTER  HARDING.  181 


Lawrence  to  Lake  Ontario.  But,  alas,  it  is 
doomed  for  many  years  to  come  to  see  no 
larger  barks  than  her  canoes  pass  over  her 
gentle  rapids.  .  .  . 

There  is  but  one  subject  that  the  hetero- 
geneous mass  of  English,  Irish,  Scotch,  and 
French  agree  upon,  and  that  is  in  most  cor- 
dially hating  the  Yankees.  .  .  . 

God  bless  you.    Love  to  all  friends. 

C.  Harding. 

TO  S.  F.  L. 

No.  16  Beacon  Street,  Boston,  December,  1827. 

.  .  .  The  truth  is,  1  have  been  too  much 
absorbed  in  the  man  of  business  to  think  of 
sitting  down  to  devote  an  hour  exclusively 
to  writing  a  letter.  I  have  not  got  the  deed 
yet,  but  I  have  had  possession  of  my  new 
house  on  Beacon  Street  for  five  weeks  past, 
and  am  about  moving  into  it  with  my  fam- 
ily. The  room  that  I  have  fitted  up  is  the 
finest  in  the  world  for  my  trade^  and  with 
the  alterations  and  improvements  that  I  have 
made,  the  family  part  is  by  no  means  con- 
temptible. I  have  painted  the  front,  which 
makes  a  great  change  for  the  better.  .  .  . 

As  to  the  sum  over  and  above  the  $6,500 
to  be  secured  by  mortgage,  I  have  borrowed 
$1,000  on  short  credit,  and  I  believe  that  I 


182 


CHEi^TER  HARDING. 


can  muster  the  rest  without  great  inconven- 
ience from  my  outstanding  debts.  .  .  . 

Although  I  have  been  so  much  taken  off 
the  shop^  in  playing  the  man  of  business, 
I  have  done  several  portraits,  one  in  partic- 
ular of  Mrs.  Daniel  Webster,  which  has 
elicited  from  her  husband  a  voluntary  prom- 
ise that  he  will  sit  to  me  the  moment  he  re- 
turns from  this  political  campaign. 

TO  s.  F.  L. 

Baltimore,  May  6,  1828. 
.  .  .  You  know,  of  course,  that  I  have 
been  leading  a  vagabond  life  for  the  last 
three  or  four  months,  three  of  which  I  spent 
in  the  great  city  of  Washington  ;  but  you 
may  not  know  that  for  the  last  three  months 
my  health  has  been  but  indifferently  good. 
Indeed,  some  of  the  time  I  have  been  as 
miserable  a  devil  as  ever  was  afflicted  with 
that  most  miserable  complaint,  the  dyspep- 
sia. I  am  in  hopes  of  mastering  it  by  rigid 
discipline.  I  am  convinced  that  the  disorder 
has  been  growing  upon  me  for  the  last  eight 
months.  It  acts  upon  the  intellectual  as 
well  as  the  animal  man.  It  is  the  cause  of 
the  "  blue  devils  "  and  similar  diseases  of  the 
mind.  I  think  if  I  were  in  Northampton, 
where  I  could  take  a  great  deal  of  horse- 


CHESTER  HARDING.  183 


back  exercise  and  breathe  the  pure  Yankee 
air  once  more,  that  I  should  soon  be  myself 
again.  It  may,  however,  be  some  weeks  yet 
before  I  leave  this  city,  at  least  I  should  like 
to  paint  a  few  more  heads.  In  short,  I  want 
to  get  out  of  debt,  and  then  I  should  be 
easy. 

My  visit  to  Washington,  notwithstanding 
my  indisposition,  has  been  one  of  profit  and 
pleasure.  I  have  had  the  gratification  of 
seeing  a  good  deal  of  the  great  men  of  the 
age,  particularly  Judge  Marshall.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  I  shall  feel  through  life  that  the 
opportunity  to  paint  the  Chief  Justice,  and 
at  the  same  time  hear  him  converse,  would 
be  ample  compensation  for  my  trouble  in 
accomplishing  these  objects.  But  over  and 
above  all  that,  I  have  got  portraits  of  all  the 
Supreme  Judges.  I  am  busy  in  this  place, 
although  there  is  a  tremendous  stagnation 
in  the  commercial  world.  They  are  looking, 
however,  with  great  hopes  to  the  completion 
of  the  Chesapeake  and  Ohio  Railroad,  but 
it  won't  do  ;  the  place  is  already  overgrown, 
with  a  wretchedly  poor  country  back  of  it. 


184  CHESTER  HARDING, 


TO  A  YOUNG  ARTIST. 

Richmond,  October  14,  1829. 

Dear  ,  —  Yours  of  the  28th  of  Sep- 
tember I  received  a  few  days  since,  and 
I  now  sit  down  with  pleasure  to  reply  to  it. 
In  the  first  place,  on  the  subject  of  your 
peregrinations.  I  think  I  may  say  with  a 
good  deal  of  certainty  that  you  would  meet 
with  encouragement  enough  in  the  western 
world  to  defray  expenses,  and  I  think  a  good 
deal  more.  However,  times  are  bearing 
heavily  on  all  parts  of  the  country  and  upon 
all  classes  of  men  ;  at  least  so  I  find  it  here. 
I  think  you  would  be  as  likely  to  do  well  in 
some  of  our  country  towns  in  New  England, 
say  Montpelier,  the  capital  of  Vermont, 
Burlington,  or  some  of  the  towns  in  New 
Hampshire.  But  I  would  advise  your 
charging  so  low  that  the  cost  of  a  picture 
need  not  stand  in  the  way  of  your  getting 
sitters,  as  it  is  not  money  you  want  so  much 
as  practice,  for  a  year  or  two.  Therefore 
I  would  paint  for  twenty-five  dollars,  though 
it  is  a  little  humiliating. 

That  there  are,  as   says,  a  multitude 

of  starving  artists,  I  make  no  doubt ;  but  I 
do  doubt  what  his  murmurings  would  imply, 
that  taste  in  England  is  on  the  wane.   He  is 


CHESTER  HARDING.  185 


subject  to  seasons  of  despondency  like  all 
men  of  ardent  temperament.  When  once  a 
man  begins  to  receive  praise  for  his  works, 
it  is  no  longer  possible  for  him  to  live  with- 
out a  constant  stream  of  it.  If  it  is  stopped 
or  turned  for  a  time  to  some  other  quarter, 
he  thinks  that  he  is  forsaken  or  neglected,  — 
begins  to  curse  his  hard  fate,  and,  without 
the  least  philosophy,  often  gives  himself  up 
to  the  most  gloomy  forebodings. 

In  our  art,  and  I  suppose  in  that  of  sculp- 
ture too,  the  first  steps  are  easily  taken, 
and  not  only  the  artist,  but  all  his  friends 
look  upon  the  first  dawnings  of  genius  with 
the  most  enthusiastic  admiration.  They  say, 
and  he  believes,  that  he  is  to  outstrip  every- 
body who  is  on  the  stage  before  him.  He 
is  cheered  while  yet  on  the  threshold  by  his 
own  advance.  But  he  soon  finds,  as  he  is 
beginning  to  grope  his  way  by  some  shorter 
way  than  others  have  taken  who  have  pre- 
ceded him,  that  difficulties  arise  on  all  sides. 
By  and  by  he  begins  to  wish  that  he  had 
taken  the  surer,  though  beaten  track,  pointed 
•out  by  so  many  who  have  gone  before  him. 
His  friends,  too,  begin  to  be  impatient  of 
his  slackened  pace,  and  gradually  grow  cool 
in  their  zeal ;  from  coolness  they  go  to  indif- 
ference, next,  to  neglect.    Now  if  the  young 


186  CHESTER  HABDING, 

man  has  the  heart  to  go  on  in  search  of 
truth  and  fame,  he  is  no  ordinary  genius, 
and  is  sure  to  reap  the  reward  ultimately. 
What  is  more  often  the  case,  however,  is 
that  he  is  totally  disheartened,  regards  his 
profession  no  longer  with  enthusiasm,  but 
merely  as  a  means  of  getting  bread,  and  if 
in  that  light  it  offers  greater  rewards  for  his 
daily  labor  than  the  trade  he  gave  up,  he 
pursues  it,  if  not,  he  goes  to  the  "  last,"  or 
strikes  out  some  new  line  of  industry.  Now 
our  friend,  although  a  sensible  man,  is  likely 
to  be  a  little  elated  by  the  success  with 
which  his  debut  has  been  marked,  and  con- 
sequently is  likely  to  be  depressed  in  the 
same  ratio  for  a  time.  His  is  a  genius  that 
will  ultimately  soar  above  all  ordinary  obsta- 
cles, I  may  say  imaginary  obstacles,  for 
there  are,  in  fact,  but  few  that  are  real. 
Once  we  begin  to  allow  trifles  to  affect  us, 
there  is  no  end  to  the  evils  that  we  shall  be 
sure  to  meet  with  on  every  side  ;  at  least,  I 
find  upon  examination  that  nine  tenths  of 
my  perplexities  are  but  imaginary. 

Mr.  Harding's  narrative  continues :  — 
I  now  began  my  career  again  in  Boston ; 
not  as  I  did  on  my  first  appearance  in  that 
city,  for  then  I  was  entirely  self-taught,  and 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


187 


little  could  be  expected  of  one  from  the 
back- woods :  but  now  I  came  fresh  from  the 
schools  of  Europe,  and  with  some  reputa- 
tion. I  felt  keenly  how  much  more  would 
be  required  of  me,  to  fill  the  expectations 
of  the  connoisseurs  and  patrons  of  art. 

My  first  picture  was  of  Emily  Marshall, 
then  the  reigning  beauty  of  Boston.  No 
artist's  skill  could  be  put  to  a  severer  test ; 
for  her  beauty  depended  much  upon  the  ex- 
pression of  her  animated  face,  which,  when 
lighted  up  in  conversation,  was  bewitchingly 
lovely.  I  did  not  succeed  to  my  own  satis- 
faction, though  others  seemed  well  pleased.^ 

1  The  following  passage  is  taken  from  a  letter  from 
Miss  E.  S.  Quincy  of  Quincy,  Mass.,  to  one  of  Mr.  Hard- 
ing's children  :  — 

"How  well  I  remember  both  his  studios.  The  first 
was  in  Beacon  Street,  near  the  present  Athenaeum,  —  I 
can  see  the  portraits  ranged  on  the  floor,  for  they  suc- 
ceeded each  other  so  rapidly  there  was  no  time  to  frame 
and  hang  them.  His  second  studio  was  in  Cornhill,  and  I 
can  see  the  portraits  of  Emily  Marshall,  and  of  Mrs.  Web- 
ster, in  the  dress  she  wore  at  Bunker  Hill  on  the  day  of 
the  celebration,  June  17,  1825,  —  a  pearl-colored  hat  and 
pelisse.  It  was  impossible,  as  your  father  says,  to  catch 
the  living  fascination  of  Emily  Marshall's  face,  —  but  his 
portrait,  I  am  told,  is  the  only  record  which  remains  of 
her  beauty.  She  was  the  most  celebrated  belle  who  ever 
appeared  in  our  country,  and  was  as  much  admired  by 
ladies  as  by  gentlemen,  and  although  she  was  ever  before 
the  public,  as  it  were,  her  celebrity  never  waned.  If  she 
walked  in  the  street,  I  always  expected  a  smile  and  a 


188  CHESTER  HAULING. 


Much  interest  was  shown  m  my  paintings, 
and  I  soon  had  enough  to  do  ;  though,  of 
the  eighty  applicants  on  my  list  when  I  left 
Boston,  not  one  came  to  renew  his  engage- 
ment. Many  whom  I  had  painted  previously 
wanted  their  pictures  altered,  either  because 
the  dress  was  out  of  fashion,  or  the  expres- 
sion did  not  please  them,  etc. ;  but  I  found 
it  would  never  do  to  begin  to  alter  the  old 
pictures.  So  I  adopted  for  a  rule,  that  I 
would  paint  a  new  picture  in  the  place  of 
the  old  one,  and  deduct  the  price  of  the  lat- 
ter. I  now  charged  one  hundred  dollars  for 
a  head :  my  former  price  was  fifty  dollars. 

Among  the  sitters  I  had  at  this  time  v/as 
Timothy  Pickering  of  Salem.  He  was  far 
advanced  in  years,  but  as  bright  in  intellect 
as  a  man  of  thirty.  His  conversation  was 
extremely  interesting,  though  it  mostly  per- 
tained to  the  early  days  of  our  government. 
One  day,  I  felt  a  strong  desire  to  know  how 
a  man  would  feel  who  knew  that  his  allotted 
time  was  nearly  spent,  and  thought  I  might 
venture  to  put  the  question  to  him ;  so  I 
said,  "  You  have  lived  beyond  the  average 
of  human  life :  how  do  you  feel  upon  the 

bow  from  her,  and  never  passed  her  father's  house  with- 
out looking  up  to  see  her  beautiful  face  brought  out  in 
full  relief  against  the  crimson  curtain.'* 


CHESTER  HARDING.  189 


subject  of  the  final  departure  to  the  other 
world  ?  "  His  reply  was,  "  It  was  only  the 
other  day  I  was  asking  old  Dr.  Holyoke  the 
same  question."  The  doctor  was  some  ten 
years  his  senior. 

I  had  at  this  time,  to  take  care  of  my 
room,  a  boy  who  afforded  me  much  amuse- 
ment. I  came  into  my  studio  one  day,  when 
he  handed  me  a  card.  I  asked  him  what 
the  gentleman  said  who  left  it.  He  replied, 
that  he  said  he  wanted  to  pay  me  some- 
thing. "  But,"  said  I,  "  he  owes  me  nothing." 

Well,  that 's  what  he  said ;  but  I  can't 
remember  what  it  was  he  wanted  to  pay." 
"  Was  it  his  respects  f  "  said  I.  "  Oh  !  yes, 
sir,"  he  answered,  evidently  much  relieved, 
"  that  was  it." 

I,  for  the  first  time,  was  reading  "  Gil 
Bias  : "  I  had  finished  the  first,  and  had  be- 
gun the  second  volume.  It  was  a  dark,  snowy 
day,  and  no  visitors  came  in  to  interrupt  us. 
The  boy  took  up  the  first  volume,  as  he  sat 
on  one  side  of  the  stove,  and  I  on  the  other. 
As  we  read  on,  the  humor  of  the  book  woukl 
prove  too  much  for  my  risibles,  and  I  would 
be  forced  to  laugh  aloud ;  then  the  boy  would 
respond  at  something  he  had  come  across :  so 
there  we  were,  master  and  man,  both  enjoy- 
ing the  witty  story  with  equal  delight.  1 


190  CHESTER  HARDING. 


think  if  the  author  could  have  seen  us,  he 
would  have  laughed  as  heartily  as  either. 

I  had  now  become  intimately  acquainted 
with  Mr.  AUston.  His  habits  were  peculiar 
in  many  respects.  He  lived  alone,  dining 
at  six  o'clock,  and  sitting  up  far  into  the 
night.  He  breakfasted  at  eleven  or  twelve. 
He  usually  spent  three  or  four  evenings,  or 
rather  nights,  at  my  house  every  week ;  and 
I  greatly  enjoyed  his  conversation,  which 
was  of  the  most  polished  and  refined  order, 
and  always  instructive.  I  sometimes  called 
at  his  studio.  It  was  an  old  barn,  very 
large,  and  as  cheerless  as  any  anchorite 
could  desire.  He  never  had  it  swept,  and 
the  accumulation  of  the  dust  of  many  years 
was  an  inch  deep.  You  could  see  a  track, 
leading  through  it  to  some  remote  corner  of 
the  room,  as  plainly  as  in  new-fallen  snow. 
He  saw  few  friends  in  his  room  ;  lived  al- 
most in  solitude,  with  only  his  own  great 
thoughts  to  sustain  him. 

Just  before  I  sailed  for  Europe,  he  had 
shown  me  his  great  picture  of  the  "  Feast 
of  Belshazzar."  It  was  then  finished,  with 
the  exception  of  the  figure  of  Daniel.  I 
thought  it  a  wonderful  picture.  I  was  not 
to  speak  of  it  to  any  one  but  Leslie.  Dur- 
ing the  three  years  of  my  absence,  he  did 


CHESTER  HARDING.  191 


not  work  on  it.  I  had  a  fine,  large  studio  ; 
and,  when  I  went  to  Washington,  which  I 
did  in  the  winter  of  1828,  I  gave  it  to  Mr. 
Alls  ton  to  finish  his  picture  in.  But  he  did 
not  unroll  it.  He  painted  all  winter,  in- 
stead, on  a  landscape  ;  and,  when  I  came 
home,  I  found  he  had  wiped  out  his  winter's 
work,  saying  it  was  not  worthy  of  him.  He 
smoked  incessantly,  became  nervous,  and 
was  haunted  by  fears  that  his  great  picture 
would  not  come  up  to  the  standard  of  his 
high  reputation.  One  day,  he  went  to  his 
friend  Loammi  Baldwin,  and  said,  "  I  have 
to-day  blotted  out  my  four  years'  work  on 
my  '  Handwriting  on  the  Wall.'  " 

He  had  discovered  some  little  defect  in 
the  perspective,  which  could  not  be  corrected 
without  enlarging  the  figures  in  the  fore- 
ground. Had  he  painted  this  picture  in 
London,  surrounded  by  the  best  works  of 
art,  and  in  daily  intercourse  with  artists  of 
his  own  standing,  his  picture  would  un- 
doubtedly have  taken  a  high  rank  among 
the  best  works  of  the  old  masters.  As  it  is, 
it  is  only  a  monument  of  wasted  genius  of 
the  highest  order. 

[The  following  letter  from  Washington  Allston  to  Mr. 
Harding  gives  such  an  agreeable  impression  of  the  ''so- 
cial nature  "  of  the  former,  and  at  the  same  time  pays  so 


192 


CHESTER  HABDING, 


pleasant  a  tribute  to  the  latter,  that  no  apology  is  needed 
for  inserting-  it.] 

Cambridgeport,  Mass.,  December  25,  1838. 

Dear  Harding, — Your  letter  from  Cincin- 
nati brought  me  an  unexpected  pleasure  (though 
some  perhaps  might  not  think  so,  from  this  tardy- 
acknowledgment  ;  but  not  you,  who  too  well 
know  that  I  am  anything  but  a  punctual  cor- 
respondent), and  I  sincerely  thank  you  for  it. 
Independent  of  the  satisfaction  of  being  kindly 
remembered,  it  was  a  pleasure  to  me  to  hear  of 
the  success  of  one  whom  I  so  bighly  esteem.  I 
regret,  however,  that  this  sublime  place  supplies 
too  little  subject-matter  for  a  letter  to  enable  me 
to  make  a  proper  return  ;  and  my  visits  to  Boston 
are  so  rare  that  I  can  glean  next  to  nothing  from 
that  quarter.  I  might  indeed  talk  of  myself ; 
but  that  is  a  subject  on  which  I  seldom  care  to 
say  much  at  any  time.  All  I  shall  say  on  it  at 
present  is,  that  I  have  been,  as  usual,  hard  at 
work  ;  to  what  effect,  I  hope  you  will  see  on  your 
return.  You  know  that  I  am  never  idle  ;  and, 
if  I  bring  but  little  to  pass,  it  is  because  my  no- 
tions of  excellence  are  sometimes  beyond  my 
reach.  I  may  add  to  this  indefiniteness,  that  I 
expect  to  resume  "  Belshazzar  "  in  the  spring. 

You  say  that  you  think  more  of  your  art  when 
you  are  away  from  home.  This  is  natural,  and 
must  needs  be  so  with  one  who  has  so  large  a 
family  to  care  for.  But  I  do  not  think  it  a  sub- 
ject of  self-reproach  that  it  is  so  ;  but  there  would 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


193 


be  a  just  one,  if  you  suffered  even  the  love  of 
art  to  supplant  the  duties  you  owe  to  them,  —  I 
do  not  mean  by  the  neglecting  to  provide  for  them, 
which  would  be  unpardonable ;  but  by  taking  the 
place  of  those  personal  attentions,  those  nameless 
kindnesses,  that  go  to  make  up  so  large  a  portion 
of  domestic  happiness.  I  have  often  thought  of 
your  conduct  with  regard  to  your  family,  and 
always  with  increased  respect.  You  have  a  good 
wife  and  good  children  ;  a  fact  that  bears  the 
strongest  evidence  of  your  right  bearing  as  a  hus- 
band and  a  father.  Neither  do  I  think  that  your 
attentions  to  them,  liberal  as  I  know  them  to  be, 
have  ever  caused  you  to  neglect  your  pencil. 
Your  numerous  pictures  ought  to  set  your  heart 
at  rest  on  that  score.  Upon  the  whole,  T  cannot 
but  consider  your  lot  a  desirable  one.  Much  as 
I  love  my  art  (and  I  believe  no  one  ever  rightly 
loved  it  more),  I  still  hold  it  subordinate  to  my 
affections.  But  there  is  time  for  the  exercise  of 
both,  except,  perhaps,  where  grinding  poverty 
allows  no  remission  of  labor.  But,  even  then, 
no  man  who  continues  true  to  his  social  nature  is 
ever  without  some  redeeming  moment,  when  he 
is  at  liberty  to  interchange  kindnesses  ;  and  it  is 
seldom  that  any  one  is  ever  wholly  deprived  of 
such  moments  excepting  by  his  own  fault.  .  .  . 
Present  my  compliments  to  Miss  Harding,  who, 
I  understand,  is  with  you  ;  and  believe  me,  dear 
Harding, 

Ever  your  faithful  friend, 

Washington  Allston. 


194  CHESTER  HARDING, 


At  this  period  of  my  life,  I  become  ac- 
quainted with  N.  P.  Willis.  He  was  the 
lion  "  of  the  town  ;  was  young,  handsome, 
and  wrote  poetry  divinely.  He  often  met 
AUston  at  my  house,  and,  I  trust,  recollects 
how  swiftly  the  hours  flew  by.  He  is  living, 
and  it  is  not  my  province  to  speak  of  his 
fame.  It  is  national,  and  will  be  cherished 
wherever  the  English  language  is  read.  The 
friendship  then  formed  between  us  has  never 
for  a  moment  been  disturbed. 

During  my  stay  in  Washington,  alluded 
to  above,  I  painted  many  of  the  distin- 
guished men  of  the  day,  such  as  Mr.  Adams, 
Mr.  Wirt,  all  the  judges  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  etc.  Among  them  was  a  full-length 
portrait  of  Judge  Marshall,  for  the  Athe- 
naeum. I  consider  it  a  good  picture.  I  had 
great  pleasure  in  painting  the  whole  of  such 
a  man.  I  remember  one  or  two  little  inci- 
dents connected  with  him,  which  amused  me 
at  the  time.  When  I  was  ready  to  draw 
the  figure  into  his  picture,  I  asked  him,  in 
order  to  save  time  for  him,  to  come  to  my 
room  in  the  evening,  as  I  could  draw  it  just 
as  well  then  as  by  daylight.  He  was  glad,  to 
do  so.  An  evening  was  appointed  ;  but  he 
could  not  come  until  after  the  "  consulta- 
tion," which  lasts  until  about  eight  o'clock. 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


195 


It  was  a  warm  evening,  and  I  was  standing 
on  my  steps  waiting  for  him,  when  he  soon 
made  his  appearance ;  but,  to  my  surprise, 
without  a  hat.  I  showed  him  into  my  studio, 
and  stepped  back  to  fasten  the  front  door, 
where  I  encountered  Mr.  Storrs,  M.  C,  and 
two  or  three  other  gentlemen,  who  knew  the 
judge  very  well.  They  had  seen  him  pass- 
ing by  their  hotel  in  his  hatless  condition, 
and  with  long  strides,  as  if  in  great  haste  ; 
and  had  followed,  curious  to  know  the  cause 
of  such  a  strange  appearance. 

When  I  reentered  the  studio,  I  inquired 
of  the  judge  whether  he  did  not  come  with- 
out a  hat,  and  he  said  "  Yes ;  "  that  the  con- 
sultation lasted  longer  than  he  expected,  and 
he  hurried  off  as  quickly  as  possible  to  keep 
his  appointment  with  me.  When  he  was 
preparing  to  return  to  his  lodgings,  I  urged 
him  to  take  my  hat ;  but  he  said,  Oh,  no  ! 
it  is  a  warm  night,  I  shall  not  need  one." 

I  again  met  Judge  Marshall  in  Richmond, 
whither  I  went  during  the  sitting  of  the 
Convention  for  amending  the  Constitution. 
He  was  a  leading  member  of  a  quoit  club, 
which  I  was  invited  to  attend.  The  battle- 
ground was  about  a  mile  from  the  city  in  a 
beautiful  grove.  I  went  early,  with  a  friend, 
just  as  the  party  were  beginning  to  arrive. 


196  CHESTER  HARDING. 


I  watclied  for  the  coming  of  tlie  old  chief. 
He  soon  approached  with  his  coat  on  his 
arm,  and  his  hat  in  his  hand,  which  he  was 
using  as  a  fan.  He  walked  directly  up  to 
a  large  bowl  of  mint-julep,  which  had  been 
prepared,  and  drank  off  a  tumbler  full  of 
the  liquid,  smacked  his  lips,  and  then  turned 
to  the  company,  with  a  cheerful  "  How  are 
you,  gentlemen  ?  "  He  was  looked  upon  as 
the  best  pitcher  of  the  party,  and  could 
throw  heavier  quoits  than  any  other  member 
of  the  club.  The  game  began  with  great  ani- 
mation. There  were  several  ties  ;  and,  be- 
fore long,  I  saw  the  great  Chief  Justice  of 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States, 
down  on  his  knees,  measuring  the  contested 
distance  with  a  straw,  with  as  much  earnest- 
ness as  if  it  had  been  a  point  of  law ;  and 
if  he  proved  to  be  in  the  right,  the  woods 
would  ring  with  his  triumphant  shout. 
What  would  the  dignitaries  of  the  highest 
court  of  England  have  thought,  if  they  had 
been  present  ? 

I  was  again  in  Washington  in  the  winter 
of  1830-31,  when  I  painted  the  portrait  of 
John  C.  Calhoun.  During  the  sittings  he 
invited  me  to  come  up  to  the  Senate,  as 
there  was  to  be  an  interesting  debate.  Mr. 
Hayne  was   to   speak  on  the  subject  of 


CHESTER  HARDING.  197 

"  Foote's  Resolutions,"  in  reply  to  a  short 
speech  of  Mr.  Webster.  I  accepted  the  in- 
vitation, and  Mr.  Calhoun  admitted  me  as 
one  of  the  many  favored  ones. 

Mr.  Hayne  was  most  eloquent,  and  ex- 
ceedingly bitter  in  his  remarks  upon  Mr. 
Webster's  speech  ;  and  so  scathing  in  his 
denunciations  of  New  England  and  her 
policy,  that  I  felt  his  sarcasms  were  unan- 
swerable. I  think  all  the  friends  of  Mr. 
Webster  thought  so  too.  The  South  side  of 
the  Senate  were  vociferous  in  their  applause. 
At  night,  I  went  to  see  the  fallen  great  man, 
as  I  considered  him.  My  daughter  was  vis- 
iting Mr.  Webster's  daughter  at  the  time. 
To  my  surprise,  I  found  him  cheerful,  even 
playful.  He  had  the  two  girls  upon  his 
knees.  I  told  him  I  expected  to  find  him 
in  another  room,  pointing  to  his  library. 
"Time  enough  for  that  in  the  morning," 
said  he. 

Mr.  Calhoun  gave  me  another  sitting  the 
next  morning.  He  seemed  to  think  the  great 
champion  of  the  North  was  annihilated.  He 
said  it  was  a  pity  he  had  laid  himself  open 
at  so  many  points. 

I  needed  no  invitation  to  go  to  the  Sen- 
ate that  morning.  I  went  early  to  the  gal- 
lery, and  secured  a  seat  among  the  reporters. 


198  CHESTER  HARDING. 

As  Mr.  Webster  entered  the  Senate,  all  eyes 
were  turned  upon  him.  He  was  elegantly 
dressed,  and  apparently  less  excited  than 
any  of  his  friends.  I  felt  towards  Mr.  Web- 
ster as  I  imagine  a  criminal  might  feel  who 
looks  to  his  counsel  to  save  him  from  pun- 
ishment for  some  crime  he  is  charged  with. 
He  soon,  however,  put  me  at  my  ease.  As 
he  proceeded  with  his  speech,  all  his  friends 
felt  satisfied  that  victory  was  his.  I  asked 
Mr.  Calhoun  what  he  thought  of  Webster's 
reply.  He  said  simply,  but  with  great  em- 
phasis, Mr.  Webster  is  a  strong  man^  sir, 
a  very  strong  man^ 

Washington,  February  25,  1830. 
Dear  Lyman,  —  I  am  happy  to  reply  to 
your  kind  favor  of  the  20th  handed  me  by 
Colonel  Dwight.  It  is  a  long  time  indeed, 
since  any  greetings  have  passed  between  us, 
though  I  do  assure  you  that  I  have  often  in 
imagination  been  in  Northampton.  But  I 
must  not  indulge  in  many  preliminary  re- 
marks, or  it  will  require  more  than  one  sheet 
to  answer  all  your  interrogatories.  You 
probably  know  that  I  left  Boston  for  Rich- 
mond with  the  intention  of  taking  off  the 
heads  of  the  Convention.  During  my  stay 
in  that  place,  I  painted  eighteen  portraits  in 


CHESTER  HARDING.  199 


all,  and  amongst  them  were  the  two  vice- 
presidents,  John  Randolph  and  Chief  Jus- 
tice Marshall  again.  My  visit,  independent 
of  any  pecuniary  consideration,  was  one  that 
I  shall  long  remember  with  pleasure.  It  was 
a  noble  sight  to  behold  the  first  steps  in  the 
proceedings  of  that  body.  They,  as  you 
know,  chose  Mr.  Monroe  as  the  president. 
It  was  truly  affecting  to  all  present,  when, 
after  the  unanimous  voice  of  the  Convention 
had  proclaimed  him  their  head,  the  Chief 
Justice  and  Mr.  Madison  led  him  to  the 
chair.  The  stillness  of  death  pervaded  the 
whole  house,  which  was  only  broken  by  the 
tremulous  voice  of  the  president.  Insignifi- 
cant as  this  Convention  was  in  comparison 
with  that  of  Seventy-six,  it  nevertheless 
brought  that  illustrious  body  to  my  imagi- 
nation very  forcibly.  Indeed,  this  trio  of 
revolutionary  veterans  seemed  almost  a  part 
of  that  august  assemblage. 

I  had  frequent  opportunities  to  hear  the 
most  interesting  debates  during  my  stay.  I 
heard  several  of  Randolph's  happiest  efforts, 
besides  which  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
a  good  deal  of  the  great  luminaries  in  my 
own  room. 

I  had  brought  a  letter  to  Randolph  from 
General  Hamilton  of  South  Carolina,  asking 


200  CHESTER  HARDING. 


him  to  sit  to  me  for  his  portrait.  I  presented 
it  with  considerable  trepidation  knowing 
something  of  his  peculiarities,  but  my  fears 
were  groundless.  I  was  most  graciously  re- 
ceived, and  was  assured  that  it  would  give 
him  great  pleasure  to  sit  to  me.  At  the 
close  of  the  second  sitting,  he  said,  "  If  you 
have  no  objection  to  showing  your  sketch,  I 
would  like  to  see  it.  I  know  if  it  is  like,  it 
will  be  very  ugly.    Ah !  it  is  very  like." 

I  painted  four  different  pictures  of  Ran- 
dolph during  my  stay,  and  I  do  assure  you 
that  I  have  never  seen  a  more  perfect  gen- 
tleman in  all  respects,  or  a  more  entertain- 
ing or  instructive  companion  than  he  was. 
His  memory  is  stored  with  everything  that 
can  be  called  for  by  any  occasion  or  any  re- 
mark, no  matter  upon  what  subject,  or  in 
what  strain. 

I  was  in  Richmond  about  three  months. 
I  saw  much  of  the  high  life  of  the  place. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  broken-down  aris- 
tocracy. Pride  and  poverty  are  singularly 
blended.  Many  an  old  family  have  lost  the 
greater  part  of  their  estates,  but  still  attempt 
the  same  style  that  they  were  wont  to  keep 
up  when  in  the  full  tide  of  prosperity. 

Democracy  is  in  its  greatest  force  here, 
in  one  sense  of  the  word.    I  do  not  wish  to 


CHESTER  HARDING,  201 


augiir  evil,  but  I  venture  tlie  prediction,  that 
Virginia  has  seen  her  manhood  (forgive  the 
Irishism)  both  morally  and  physically.  You 
would  be  disgusted  to  see  the  low,  bar-room 
dissipation  that  is  spreading  through  all  the 
younger  part  of  society.  No  public  spirit, 
—  no  roads  nor  bridges,  nor  any  public 
works,  unless  cock-pits  and  race-courses  can 
be  dignified  by  that  name. 

Yes,  my  dear  fellow,  I  did  witness  the  late 
intellectual  combats,  —  at  least  so  much  of 
them  as  relates  to  Webster  and  Hayne.  It 
was  a  glorious  victory  for  New  England, 
There  was  an  unceasing  hurrah  of  triumph 
by  the  Hayne-ites,  after  his  first  reply  to 
Mr.  Webster,  and  many  of  the  friends  of 
the  latter  feared  the  result,  so  good  was  his 
uncontradicted  story.  Indeed,  the  attack 
was  in  his  most  eloquent  and  biting  manner. 
He  closed  his  speech  about  three  o'clock,  the 
usual  hour  for  adjourning,  when  Mr.  Web- 
ster rose  to  reply,  but  some  member  moved 
an  adjournment  until  Monday.  From  Fri- 
day till  Monday  there  was  nothing  talked  of, 
indoors  or  out,  but  Mr.  Webster's  set-down. 
Monday  came,  and  at  an  early  hour  the 
Senate  was  filled  to  suffocation.  Ladies 
and  gentlemen  were  admitted  to  the  floor  of 
the  Senate,  ladies  occupying  the  seats  of 


202 


CHESTER  HABBING. 


Senators.  The  ordinary  business  of  the 
morning  was  dispensed  with,  and  Mr.  Web- 
ster commenced  speaking  about  12.30  and 
spoke  until  half  past  four.  The  substance 
of  what  he  said  you  have  in  the  papers,  and 
as  you  have  heard  him,  you  may  imagine  in 
part  the  effect.  I  never  felt  the  power  of 
eloquence  before.  I  could  not  keep  my  seat. 
The  when,  the  how,  the  wherefore,"  is  not 
done  justice  to  in  the  report,  nor  can  you 
conceive  the  effect  the  "  Ghost  of  Banquo  " 
had  upon  the  audience.  It  is  impossible  for 
the  pen  to  describe  the  interest  that  was 
kept  on  tiptoe  from  beginning  to  end.  Not 
a  man  nor  woman  left  the  Senate  until  it 
adjourned. 

God  bless  you  and  yours. 

C.  Harding. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  summer  of  1830, 
I  had  taken  my  family  to  Springfield,  Mass., 
to  spend  a  portion  of  the  warm  weather. 
We  were  all  so  well  pleased  with  the  place 
that  I  exchanged  my  house  on  Beacon  Street 
for  one  in  Springfield,  which  has  been  our 
home  ever  since. 

Little  of  interest  occurred  in  my  life  for 
several  years.  Its  monotony  was  varied  only 


CHESTER  HARDING,  203 


by  several  professional  trips  to  the  West  and 
South. 

In  1845  I  met  with  a  sore  bereavement  in 
the  death  of  my  wife.  She  died  on  the  27th 
of  August,  after  an  illness  of  but  three  days. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

At  this  point  the  story  of  Mr.  Harding's 
life,  as  told  by  himself,  ceases  in  any  con- 
tinuous form.  The  only  indications  of  the 
course  it  followed  for  the  sixteen  years 
which  intervened  between  the  removal  of 
his  family  to  Springfield  and  his  second 
trip  to  England  are  to  be  found  in  the  few 
hastily  written  family  letters  which  have 
been  preserved,  and  from  which  the  sub- 
joined extracts  have  been  made* 

TO  M.  E.  H. 

Boston,  June^  1836, 
Dear  M.,  —  I  owe  you  one  letter,  and  here 
you  have  it.  You  speak  of  several  that  I 
am  indebted  to  you  for.  Now  I  deny  the 
debt  altogether.  Every  time  I  go  home  I 
consider  the  account  settled,  all  debts  paid ; 
and  when  I  leave,  then  a  new  one  is  opened. 
When  I  write  to  your  mother  I  feel  that  I 
am  writing  to  you  all,  and  each  one  has  the 
reading  of  my  letters  if  they  please,  though 
I  admit  that  some  of  them  are  so  short  that 


CHESTER  HARDING.  205 


if  they  were  to  be  divided  amongst  you  all, 
the  amount  that  each  one  would  get  would 
be  small,  as  a  pie  before  it  is  cut  looks  well, 
and  to  any  one  of  the  party  would  be  a 
tremendous  quantity,  but  apportionate  it  out 
in  pieces  and  it  is  nothing  at  all.  The  sun, 
you  know,  can  be  looked  at  by  millions,  and 
none  of  its  splendor  be  diminished.  Mil- 
lions can  receive  warmth  from  it,  and  yet 
its  heat  be  none  the  less.  Just  so  it  is  with 
my  letters  :  each  one  of  the  family  can  read 
and  be  edified  and  entertained  by  them 
without  in  the  least  decreasing  their  value  / 
By  this  logic  you  will  see  that  you  are  all 
largely  my  debtors.  .  .  . 

You  have  heard  of  Dr.  Stevenson's  death. 
I  feel  his  loss  most  deeply.  He  was  an  in- 
timate friend  as  well  as  my  physician.  His 
is  the  first  death  that  has  occurred  in  our 
club  since  it  was  formed.^ 

1  "  When  I  was  a  young  man,  and  soon  after  Mr.  Hard- 
ing's return  from  his  first  visit  to  England,  I  belonged 
to  a  club  with  Harding,  James  K.  Mills,  Nat.  P.  Willis, 
Horace  Mann,  Dr.  S.  G.  Howe,  Charles  Sumner,  Ed- 
ward G.  Loring,  etc.,  etc.,  who  dined  at  each  other's  houses 
weekly  and  had  grand  good  times,  until  some  of  our  party 
became  politicians,  and  the  after-dinner  talk  on  Anti- 
slavery  became  so  personal  that  we  had  to  break  up  the 
Club."  (Extract  from  letter  of  J.  T.  Reed  to  Samuel 
Bowles,  of  Springfield,  Mass.) 


206 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


TO  M.  E.  H. 

Baltimore,  October  6,  1838. 

Dear  M.,  —  Caroline  wrote  home  yester- 
day, and  I  thought  that  would  be  the  last 
you  would  hear  from  us,  until  we  reached 
the  great  western  valley.  But  as  bad  luck 
will  have  it  we  are  detained  one  day  more 
in  consequence  of  the  rascality  of  the  stage 
agents.  We  leave  here  for  Wheeling  this 
afternoon,  to  sleep  at  Frederick,  sixty-six 
miles  from  here  ;  there  we  wait  for  the 
morning  line  until  one  o'clock  to-morrow, 
and  then  we  go  night  and  day.  What  a 
prospect  lies  before  us  !  Never  mind,  it  will 
be  all  the  same  five  hundred  years  hence. 

It  is  as  warm  here  as  July,  —  mosquitoes 
as  thick  as  the  flies  in  our  kitchen.  Caro- 
line's face  is  much  like  the  sides  of  a  fine 
trout,  full  of  red  spots.  In  the  trout  this  is 
a  great  beauty,  but  I  very  much  question 
whether  you  would  think  said  red  spots  any 
improvement  to  the  face  divine.  I  have  no 
doubt  it  may  be  good  for  the  health,  as  low 
bleeding  is  recommended  for  plethora. 

Last  night  closed  the  city  election.  It 
was  a  most  violent  contest.  The  result  was 
known  about  midnight,  and  at  one  o'clock 
there  came  about  forty  drunken  fellows  into 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


207 


the  hotel  to  greet  one  of  the  leaders.  He 
was  in  bed  on  the  same  floor  with  us.  I 
thought  at  first  it  was  a  company  of  dra- 
goons. Caroline  was  in  a  room  not  far 
from  me,  and  alone,  though  I  thought  Miss 
Shubrick  was  with  her.  She  was  almost 
frightened  to  death,  so  she  said  this  morn- 
ing. I  should  have  gone  to  her  rescue,  only 
that  I  feared  Miss  S.  might  be  as  much 
frightened  at  me  inside  the  room,  as  she  was 
at  the  larks  outside.  .  .  . 

I  hope  you  are  improving  your  time  by 
reading  something  useful.  JVot  a  novel 
on  any  account.  Novels  only  weaken  the 
mind  and  give  a  distaste  for  useful  reading. 
"  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets  "  is  a  book 
I  can  recommend.  But  above  all  things 
whatever  you  read,  do  not  forget. 

Are  n't  you  astonished  to  see  so  scholar- 
like looking  a  letter  from  such  a  quarter  ? 
I  hope  you  will  make  the  proper  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  same. 

Love  to  all  from  your  loving  Pa. 

TO  J.  M.  K.^ 

*  Springfield,  Artist's  Retreat,  July  11,  1840. 

Dear  Son,  —  Here  I  am,  seated  in  our 
parlor  with  the  windows  closed,  to  keep  out 
1  Hon.  John  M  Kmm  of  St.  Louis,  Mo. 


208 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


the  flies  and  heat.  The  mercury  is  pretty 
well  up  in  the  world,  though  by  the  aid  of 
the  trees  in  front,  together  with  the  cooling 
pattering  of  the  fountain,  we  can  keep  tol- 
erably cool.  This  place  looks  more  like 
fairy-land  than  ever.  It  is  a  lovely  spot  be- 
yond a  question,  and  if  I  had  a  fortune  to 
enable  me  to  keep  it  up  as  I  could  wish, 
there  is  no  spot  I  should  like  better  for  the 
summer  months.  .  .  . 

In  politics  we  are  "  going  it  strong  "  on 
the  right  track.  I  hope  to  see  a  change  in 
the  administration.  We  have  had  enough 
of  experiments  for  the  last  twelve  years, 
and  I  think  that  any  change  from  this  gov- 
ernment of  office-holders  will  be  for  the  bet- 
ter. This  eternal  war  upon  credit  and  the 
currency  has  ruined  thousands.  Nothing 
but  a  United  States  Bank  will  put  us  right 
again.  I  rather  think  that  the  town  you 
are  now  living  in,  and  yourself  included  of 
course,  would  be  worth  five  times  as  much 
as  you  now  are  if  old  Jackson  had  remained 
quietly  at  the  Hermitage  for  the  last  twelve 
years.  I  know  the  office-holders  will  move 
heaven  and  earth  to  keep  their  places,  poot 
disinterested  creatures  !  But  enough  of  this. 

I  think  I  shall  be  obliged  to  go  and  try  to 
get  a  little  food  for  my  wife  and  children 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


209 


this  afternoon.  What  a  sacrifice  I  make  to 
keep  my  family  in  fish  !  But  as  fish  is  con- 
sidered more  wholesome  than  flesh  in  hot 
weather,  I  am  willing  to  make  it. 

Give  much  love  to  O  . 

Your  affectionate  father, 

C.  Hakding. 

TO  J.  M.  K. 

New  Orleans,  January  18,  1840. 

My  dear  Son,  —  We  have  had  some 
extreme  cold  weather  here.  The  other  morn- 
ing I  thought  I  discovered  some  signs  of 
white  frost,  although  the  mercury  did  not 
indicate  so  low  a  temperature.  I  presume 
there  has  been  no  doubt  on  that  point  in 
Alton.  For  the  last  two  weeks  we  have  had 
no  occasion  for  a  fire  more  than  half  the 
time,  and  some  of  the  days  we  have  had  our 
windows  up  like  midsummer. 

W         writes  me  that  the  times  are  as 

hard  as  ever  in  Boston.  What  are  we  com- 
ing to  ?  If  government  will  pass  an  act 
prohibitory  of  all  foreign  goods,  I  don't  care 
how  soon  they  pass  an  act  to  put  down  credit 
of  every  sort,  public  and  private,  and  let 
the  expenses  of  the  government  be  paid  by 
direct  tax. 

Speaking  of  the  credit  system,  I  think 


210  CHESTER  HARDING. 


your  State  and  citizens  are  likely  to  have 
enough  of  it.  By  the  time  Benton's  hard 
currency  is  in  full  operation,  one  dollar  will 
of  necessity  be  worth  as  much  as  five  or  six 
at  the  present  time.  How  will  Illinois  pay 
her  interest  on  her  foreign  loans  ?  I  think 
she  will  take  the  "  benefit  of  the  act,"  and 
private  debtors  will  do  ditto. 

We  have  had  great  glorification  in  this 
city.  The  "  Hero  of  two  wars "  has  been 
down  here,  but  it  was,  as  the  boys  say,  "  no 
go."  There  was  less  enthusiasm  shown  than 
I  ever  saw  evinced  for  any  public  man  who 
made  a  show  of  himself  ;  —  no  shouting  and 
throwing  up  of  caps,  except  by  boys  and 
niggers."  This  is  a  solemn  fact,  and  it 
struck  deep  in  the  old  General's  heart.  He 
often  expressed  great  disappointment.  I 
was  grieved  to  see  it,  for  whatever  I  may 
think  of  President  Jackson,  I  certainly  think 
most  highly  of  General  Jackson,  It  was 
believed  here  that  the  old  man  came  down 
to  electioneer  for  his  son  and  heir,  Martin 
the  First.  Whatever  the  effect  may  be 
abroad,  I  really  think  he  lost  more  than  he 
gained  in  New  Orleans. 


CHESTER  HABDmG,  211 


TO  C.  H.  HARDING,  JR. 

Boston,  November  3,  1841. 
.  .  ,  There  is  one  thing  that  I  wish  to 
impress  upon  your  mind  as  of  the  utmost 
importance,  which  is,  that  you  improve 
every  moment  of  your  leisure  in  classical 
and  belles-lettres  acquirements.  I  do  not 
mean  by  this  that  you  should  turn  over  the 
leaves  of  the  books  yoa  read  for  the  sake 
merely  of  reading  any  given  set  of  works. 
Fix  indelibly  in  your  mind  the  contents  of 
every  book  you  read,  as  so  much  capital  laid 
aside  for  future  use.  It  is  better  to  read 
a  little,  understandingly,  than  to  hurry 
through  whole  libraries.  Regard  each  book 
as  a  fountain,  and  never  go  to  it  without 
carrying  away  some  of  its  useful  store.  Ask 
yourself  this  question  every  time  you  sit 
down  to  a  book  —  What  object  have  I  in 
reading  this  work  ?  The  answer  will  be,  to 
get  new  ideas.  Of  what  advantage  will 
those  ideas  be  to  you?  should  be  another 
question.  Certainly  not  for  present  use 
merely,  but  they  are  to  be  treasured  in  your 
memory,  to  be  drawn  upon  as  occasion  re- 
quires through  life.  Look  at  the  very  com- 
mon evil  of  careless  reading.  For  example, 
a  man  reads  the  Constitution  of  the  United 


212 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


States  in  the  too  frequent,  careless  way.  A 
week  or  a  day  after,  he  is  with  gentlemen  who 
are  discussing  this  same  document,  and  gross 
blundering  statements  are  made  as  to  this 
or  that  power  granted  or  withheld.  Ten  to 
one  the  man  who  has  so  recently  read  it 
cannot  put  them  right  on  a  single  point. 
The  reading  took  him  twenty  minutes.  How 
much  better  for  him  had  he  taken  as  many 
hours  or  days,  if  by  so  doing  he  could  com- 
prehend and  treasure  up  its  contents. 

TO  J.  M.  K. 

Boston,  November  22,  1841. 
.  .  .  The  next  important  matter  to  be 
communicated  is  the  doings  on  account  of 
the  Prince  de  Joinville's  ball,  which  comes 
off  to-morrow  night.  Caro  and  I  are  all 
that  are  to  go  to  the  affair.  Your  mother, 
not  having  her  dancing  shoes  in  readiness, 
declines  going,  as  she  has  a  holy  horror  of 
wall-flowers.  M.,  and  W.  too,  decline.  It 
is  to  be  hoped  that  the  Prince  won't  know 
that  three  out  of  my  family  stay  away  from 
the  ball,  as  that  circumstance  would  detract 
much  from  the  compliment.  Indeed,  there 
is  no  telling  what  the  effect  might  be  upon 
the  proud  King  of  the  French.  The  ball  is 
to  be  held  in  the  old  Cradle  of  Liberty,  and 


CHESTER  HABDING,  213 


the  supper  is  to  be  served  in  the  large  ro- 
tunda of  Quincy  Market,  the  two  being  con- 
nected by  a  suspension  bridge, 

TO  J.  M.  K. 
Lexington,  Ky.,  November  14,  1842. 

...  I  think  it  is  quite  doubtful  whether 
I  get  as  far  as  Cuba  this  winter.  I  really 
hope  that  I  may  find  a  fair  demand  for  the 
commodity  of  heads  in  the  towns  on  the 
Mississippi.  Once  I  should  have  been  de- 
lighted with  the  thought  of  a  trip  to  a  for- 
eign country,  but  I  begin  to  fear  that  I  am 
older  than  I  was  twenty  years  ago.  Per- 
haps the  title  ^  that  you  have  helped  me  to 
has  something  to  do  with  the  idea.  What- 
ever the  cause,  I  have  determined  that  this 
shall  be  my  last  trip  from  home. 

What  a  paradise  this  same  Kentucky  is ! 
I  '11  venture  to  assert  that  the  world  can't 
produce  a  finer  tract  of  land  than  is  com- 
prised in  six  or  eight  counties  in  this 
region.  The  good  people  lack  nothing  but 
the  comforts  of  life.  Luxuries  they  have 
in  the  greatest  profusion,  but  in  all  the  little 
trifles  that  go  to  make  up  the  sum  total  of 
comfort,  as  we  at  the  North  understand  it, 
they  are  wof ully  deficient.    This  may  be  a 

^  Grandfather. 


214 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


necessary  concomitant  of  slavery.  Perhaps 
it  is  wisely  ordered;  if  the  social  system 
here  were  perfect,  who  would  be  content  to 
toil  out  his  existence  in  the  sterile  New  Eng- 
land States  ? 

TO  J.  M.  K. 

Springfield,  August  14,  1842. 
I  have  just  returned  from  a  trip  to  the 
White  Hills,  where  I  reveled  in  fine  scen- 
ery, fine  air,  and  magnificent  trout  brooks. 
When  you  feel  like  coming  to  this  region, 
and  wish  to  be  born  again  physically,  we 
will  make  up  a  party  and  spend  a  few 
weeks  in  that  invigorating  region.  There  is 
not  another  spot  in  this  country  where  the 
weak  can  be  made  strong,  the  wretched 
made  happy,  and  the  poor  made  to  feel  rich. 
Therefore  if  you  should  ever  be  afflicted 
with  any  of  these  complaints,  come  on  and 
be  relieved. 

TO  M.  E.  H. 

Auburn,  N.  Y.,  Seward  Palace,  3farch  10,  1843. 

Dear  Pegos,  —  Here  I  am,  ensconced  in 
the  gubernatorial  chair,  inditing  a  letter  to 
my  lovely  daughter.  But  what  shall  I  write  ? 
is  the  question  that  has  just  crossed  my  nod- 
dle.   You  know  nobody  here  that  I  can 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


215 


speak  of,  and  I  know  so  few  people  that  I 
could  in  any  event  have  no  gossip  to  relate. 
Here  is  the  state's  prison,  it  is  true,  but  I 
have  not  been  inside  of  its  walls.  It  has 
a  large  family  within,  about  eight  hundred 
wretches  who  have  violated  the  laws  of  the 
land,  and  are  expiating  their  crimes. 

I  '11  give  you  a  description  of  the  family 
I  am  with.    To  begin  with  the  head.  A 

small  man  about  the  size  of  W  D  ; 

about  thirty-five  ;  aquiline  nose  ;  blue  eyes  ; 
reddish  -  brown  hair,  and  very  agreeable 
manners.  Madam  is  almost  very  beautiful ; 
black  eyes  ;  dark  hair  ;  and  a  fine  figure. 
She  is  very  modest,  and  very  intelligent; 
has  read  a  great  deal,  and  talks  politics 
almost  as  well  as  her  husband,  —  not  from 
choice,  but  only  when  others  choose  to  give 
the  conversation  a  political  turn.  She  has 
the  good  taste  to  admire  Mad.  d'Arblay, 
and  "  The  Neighbors." 

The  Governor  has  resumed  his  practice 
at  the  bar  as  a  lawyer.  He  spends  his 
evenings  at  home  in  the  library  (which  is 
very  extensive),  talking  and  smoking.  I 
have  now  one  of  his  cigars  in  my  mouth, 
and  a  very  good  one  it  is.  I  wish  I  could 
send  you  one.  But  I  will  send  you  a  kiss 
conveyed  from  my  lips  to  the  paper  by  the 


216  CHESTER  HARDING. 


wet  end  of  the  weed.  [Then  follows  a  sketch 
of  the  lighted  cigar.] 

I  am  getting  on  very  well  with  my  pic- 
ture.   I  expect  to  complete  my  work  here 
in  all  next  week,  when  I  shall  set  off  for 
New  York.  .  .  . 
Give  love  to  all. 

I  am  your  dear  old  Daddy, 

Chester  Harding. 

AsTOR  House,  New  York,  April  18,  1850. 

I  think  the  best  time  to  set  out  trees  is 
just  as  the  buds  are  pretty  well  swollen  ; 
but  the  main  art  is  in  the  mode,  not  the 
time.  Trees  should  be  taken  up  with  care. 
Keep  the  masses  of  fibres  from  being  torn 
from  the  roots,  and,  if  possible,  keep  the 
earth  with  them  ;  the  more  root,  the  better, 
provided  the  fibres  are  there,  for  it  is  they 
that  keep  the  tree  alive. 

Now  comes  the  difficult  matter  of  setting. 
Place  the  tree  in  a  hole,  in  an  upright  posi- 
tion, sprinkle  in  a  little  fine  loam,  wash  it 
around  the  fibres,  put  in  more  loam  and 
more  water,  and  so  on,  until  the  hole  is  filled. 
Don't  stamp  or  ram  down  the  earth.  After 
this,  secure  the  tree  in  such  a  manner  that 
the  wind  will  not  move  the  roots. 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


217 


Springfield,  October  7,  1864. 
Dear  M.,  —  It  is  my  intention  to  look  in 
on  you  on  Monday,  for  a  day  or  so.  Don't 
have  any  firing  of  guns,  or  ringing  of  bells. 
I  shall  travel  incog.         Yours  ever, 

Chester  Harding. 

(No  date.) 

Dear  M.,  — Yours  of  this  morning  is  re- 
ceived. I  am  well ;  if  you  are  well,  all 's 
well.  Your  affectionate  father, 

Chester  Harding. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

In  August,  1846,  Mr.  Harding  made  a 
second  visit  to  England,  where  he  spent 
nine  months  with  profit  and  pleasure.  Dur- 
ing that  time  he  kept  no  journal,  other 
than  the  letters  he  wrote  to  his  family,  from 
which  the  following  extracts  have  been 
made. 

Halifax,  August  18,  1846. 
We  are  thus  far  in  safety,  though  not 
without  peril.  About  eight  o'clock  of  the 
evening  of  the  first  day,  it  came  on  very 
thick  with  fog,  and  we  were  booming  along 
at  a  great  rate  through  old  ocean,  when 
there  came  a  sharp  cry  of  Helm  hard  to 
port."  In  less  than  half  a  minute  we  heard 
a  most  awful  crash.  We  had  run  down  a 
fishing  schooner  with  eleven  souls  on  board. 
The  vessel  sunk  just  at  our  stern,  going  un- 
der one  of  our  paddle-boxes.  Most  of  the 
men  were  below,  and  of  course  went  down 
with  the  hapless  craft.  Five  men  were  kept 
afloat  until  we  lowered  a  boat  and  took  them 


CHESTER  HAEDING. 


219 


aboard.  We  were  more  than  an  hour  in 
picking  them  up ;  we  could  hear  their  cries 
for  help,  but  it  was  so  dark  that  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  find  them,  and  after  they  had  been 
taken  into  the  boat  it  took  another  hour  for 
them  to  find  the  ship.  We  fired  guns,  but 
it  seems  they  did  not  hear  them  owing  to 
the  noise  of  the  waves,  and  but  for  the  blue 
lights  that  were  burned  on  board  it  is  doubt- 
ful if  they  would  have  found  the  ship.  The 
poor  wretches  were  quite  exhausted.  We 
got  calmed  down  again  and  were  once  more 
on  our  course,  and  I  and  most  of  the  other 
passengers  had  turned  in,  when  a  similar 
cry  of  "  Hard  to  port  "  arose.  All  sprung 
up  and  rushed  on  deck,  to  see  another 
schooner  not  twenty  feet  from  us.  Two 
minutes  after  there  came  another  cry  of 
"  Larboard  Aarc?,"  and  in  like  manner  we 
just  escaped  a  third  smack.  By  this  time 
there  was  very  little  disposition  to  turn  in. 
The  rest  of  the  night  we  went  at  slow  speed, 
and  were  right  glad  to  see  daylight.  Two 
of  the  persons  saved  were  brothers,  one,  a 
lad  of  twelve  years  ;  they  lost  their  father 
and  a  brother.  We  raised  a  purse  of  |300 
for  the  sufferers,  giving  |50  to  the  men 
saved  and  the  rest  to  the  relief  of  the 
widows  of  two  of  the  men  who  were  lost. 


220 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


London^  August  30, 1846.  Just  at  night 
of  the  fourth  day  from  land,  we  fell  in  with 
some  mountains  of  ice.  Many  of  them  were 
as  large  as  the  State  House  at  Boston.  One 
of  them,  the  captain  said,  was  two  hundred 
feet  high,  and  three  times  as  broad  at  the 
base.  It  looked  like  a  giant's  snow-fort. 
While  we  were  all  admiring  this  sublime 
spectacle,  the  captain  drew  my  attention  to 
a  small  iceberg,  nearly  covered  with  water ; 
telling  me  that  it  was  those  that  were  the 
terror  of  navigators.  They  are  not  easily 
seen  in  rough  weather,  and  to  encounter  one 
would  be  as  fatal  as  to  run  on  to  a  reef  of 
rocks.  We  made  our  port  in  eleven  days 
and  a  half. 

I  find  nobody  in  town  that  I  want  to 
see.  I  have  strolled  about  a  good  deal,  visit- 
ing my  old  haunts.  Yesterday,  I  went  to 
the  National  Gallery,  and  looked  at  the 
works  of  the  old  masters.  Many  of  them 
I  saw  frequently  when  I  was  here  before ; 
but  I  find  that  most  of  them  do  not  please 
me  so  much  as  they  did  formerly.  I  have 
dined  with  Pickersgill  and  Leslie,  and  vis- 
ited their  studios  ;  but  I  am  disappointed 
in  the  modern  portraits  that  I  have  seen. 
I  find,  on  looking  at  my  own  old  pictures, 
that  I  was  at  least  twenty  years  younger  in 


CHESTER  HARDING.  221 


the  art  than  I  am  now,  whatever  I  may  be 
in  years. 

Glasgow^  October  11.  Glasgow  looks,  in 
the  main,  just  as  it  did  twenty  years  ago, 
though  it  has  spread  out  into  the  country, 
and  has  doubled  its  population.  But  it  is 
sad  to  find  my  former  friends  grown  so  old. 
It  is  almost  impossible  to  feel  that  these 
gray-headed  men  are  the  same  persons  that 
I  knew  so  intimately  when  I  was  here  be- 
fore. I  have  looked  in  the  glass  to  see  if  I 
can  discover  any  change  in  my  own  looks ; 
and  sometimes  I  think  I  can  discover  a 
slight  one. 

October  12.  The  only  thing  in  the  way 
of  my  profession  worth  relating  is  that  Mr. 
Alison,  the  historian,  is  sitting  to  me.  What 
do  you  imagine  he  looks  like  ?  Of  course 
you  have  pictured  in  your  mind  some  image 
of  the  great  author.  He  looks  no  more  like 
one's  imagination  of  an  author  than  I  do 
like  a  bishop.  He  is  nearly  my  own  size, 
with  a  round,  full  face,  of  the  complexion 
of  Mr.  Everett,  reddish  hair,  large  yellow 
whiskers ;  yet  has  rather  a  distinguished  air. 
He  is  the  sheriff  of  Glasgow,  a  very  impor- 
tant office ;  and  is  highly  esteemed  by  all 
classes. 

The  last  ten  days  have  been  miserably 


222 


CHESTER  HAIIDING. 


dull  and  rainy.  My  only  relief  from  the 
horrors  has  been  in  books.  I  have  read 
Hazlitt's  writings  on  art  with  a  good  deal 
of  pleasure  and  instruction.  I  am  now 
reading  Alison's  History.  I  commenced  it, 
mainly,  so  that  when  he  was  sitting  to  me  I 
need  not  have  the  mortification  of  saying  I 
had  not  read  his  book.  But  since  I  have 
got  fairly  into  the  history,  I  have  needed  no 
such  motive  to  induce  me  to  go  on  with  the 
work.  It  is  beautifully  written,  and  more 
exciting  than  any  work  of  fiction.  I  am  de- 
lighted with  the  "  Diary  and  Letters  of 
Madame  d'Arblay."  It  is  highly  interest- 
ing. I  would  recommend  it  to  your  atten- 
tion, if  you  have  not  already  got  hold  of  it. 
But  don't  let  H.  read  it,  nor  any  other 
book  that  does  not  directly  or  indirectly 
promote  his  studies.  Light  reading  of  any 
kind  must  dissipate  the  mind,  and,  at  any 
age,  make  hard  study  uninteresting ;  but,  to 
the  hoy^  it  is  ruinous  :  of  this  I  am  well  sat- 
isfied. 

These  same  Scotch  folks  that  I  am  among 
are  a  curious  people.  Close  in  their  habits 
of  economy,  thrifty  in  business,  always  look- 
ing after  their  own  interest,  yet  they  are 
overflowing  with  hospitality.  They  always 
have  some  one  or  more  to  "  tak'  pot-luck  wi' 


CHESTER  HARDING,  223 


them,"  and  make  dinner  a  social  meal. 
They  often  sit  two  honrs  at  the  table  ;  more 
for  the  sake  of  conversation  than  for  drink- 
ing. 

My  habits  are  very  regular,  I  rise  at  nine 
o'clock,  order  breakfast,  smoke  my  cigar, 
and  then  go  to  work.  I  fast  from  that  time 
until  dinner,  which  is  at  six.  I  go  home 
about  eleven,  and  read  till  one ;  and  then 
turn  in  to  my  bed,  I  am  not  sure  but  that 
I  shall  become  a  confirmed  reader.  I  begin 
to  feel  great  restlessness  if  I  am  idle  a  mo- 
ment in  my  room. 

Noveynber  1.  Among  my  other  pleasing 
occupations,  I  have  had  three  or  four  of  my 
teeth  filled  by  the  great  dentist  of  the  place. 
The  reason  I  mention  this  circumstance  is, 
that  you  may  know  the  way  I  paid  the  bill. 
After  he  had  finished  the  work,  I  took  out 
my  pocket-book,  and  asked  him  how  much 
I  had  to  pay.  "  Nothing^''  said  he ;  "I 
never  charge  artists  for  any  such  small 
jobs."  Do  you  think  Dr.  Perkins  would 
have  so  much  consideration  for  the  arts  ? 

Yesterday,  I  dined  again  with  Mr.  Alison, 
and  met  Mr.  Lockhart  and  his  daughter. 
He  is  very  agreeable  and  gentlemanly.  His 
daughter  is  rather  pretty,  and  simple  in  man- 
ners.   After  the  ladies  retired,  Mr.  Alison 


224  CHESTER  HARDING. 


joined  Mr.  Lockhart  and  myself ;  and  we 
were  carrying  on  a  very  interesting  conversa- 
tion on  the  arts  (here  the  arts  are  the  sub- 
jects for  general  convnersation,  as  much  as 
politics  are  with  us),  but,  horrible  to  relate  ! 
just  at  this  happy  moment,  I  was  attacked 
most  violently  with  one  of  my  turns  of  colic. 
I  resorted  to  my  usual  remedies,  but  found 
little  relief ;  and  was  obliged  to  get  into  Mr. 
Alison's  carriage,  and  drive  home.  This  is 
the  first  attack  I  have  had  for  three  or  four 
years.  I  would  rather  have  had  it  at  any 
other  time,  as  it  deprived  me  of  a  most  de- 
lightful party.  I  wanted  much  to  have  made 
some  conversation  with  the  grand-daughter 
of  Sir  Walter  Scott.  But,  Pegos,  what 
is  is. 

Novemher  15.  They  have  in  this  city 
just  opened  an  exhibition  on  the  plan  of  the 
Athenaeum,  only  not  equal  to  it  in  point  of 
merit.  I  was  invited  to  see  it,  the  day  be- 
fore it  was  opened  to  the  public.  There  are 
many  pretty  good  pictures,  but  none  first- 
rate.  They  are  very  proud  of  it ;  and  one 
of  the  principal  artists  asked  me,  with  ap- 
parent pride  and  exultation,  if  we  had  any- 
thing of  the  kind  in  America. 

Nothing  of  any  great  interest  has  crossed 
my  path  since  my  last.   I  have  had  no  great 


CHESTER  HARLING,  225 


dinners,  no  colic  ;  things  have  gone  on  very 
monotonously.  The  sun  has  not  been  seen 
for  the  last  ten  days,  and  fears  are  begin- 
ning to  be  felt  for  his  safety.  When  last 
seen,  he  was  struggling  through  a  dense 
mass  of  smoke  and  fog. 

Dear  daughter,  as  the  great  day  of  all 
New  England  days  approaches,  I  cannot  but 
wish  that  I  could  form  one  of  the  party 
around  C.'s  table.  You  may  be  assured 
that  I  shall  be  in  the  midst  of  you,  in  spirit. 
This  morning  I  was  awakened  by  a  friendly 
knock  at  my  door.  I  was  dreaming  at  the 
time,  most  delightfully,  of  being  at  home 
with  Caro.  and  you  and  the  C.'s ;  and  it  was 
painful  to  be  so  suddenly  aroused  to  the 
reality  of  being  in  a  far-off  land.  I  would 
not  have  you  infer  from  this  that  I  am  dis- 
contented or  unhappy,  for  it  is  not  so ;  and 
so  long  as  I  receive  letters  regularly,  assur- 
ing me  that  all  is  going  on  well  with  you,  my 
dreams  of  home  and  friends,  whether  in  my 
sleeping  or  waking  hours,  will  only  increase 
my  happiness.    So  God  bless  you  all ! 

November  25.  I  heard  that  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton  was  at  his  place,  about  a  dozen 
miles  from  here  ;  so  this  morning  I  took 
coach  to  go  and  see  him ;  but,  to  my  great 
disappointment,  he  was  not  at  home.  The 


226  CHESTER  HARDING. 


palace  is  shown  to  visitors  on  Tuesdays  and 
Fridays  ;  so,  as  this  is  Wednesday,  I  could 
not  get  in,  I  told  the  servant  that  I  knew 
the  duke,  and  had  painted  a  portrait  of 
him.  Still  I  could  not  get  the  housekeeper 
to  break  over  the  law.  I  started  oflP,  but 
had  not  got  more  than  twenty  rods,  when  a 
liveried  servant,  without  a  hat,  came  run- 
ning after  me,  saying  that  Lady  Douglas, 
the  duke's  daughter,  wished  me  to  come 
back,  and  see  the  palace.  The  housekeeper 
had  told  her  who  I  was.  I  spent  an  hour 
or  two  in  looking  at  the  pictures.  Some  of 
them  are  very  fine.  There  are  several  Van- 
dykes, and  also  the  celebrated  picture,  by 
Rubens,  of  the  Lion's  Den.  The  gems  in 
the  way  of  furniture  are  most  exquisite. 
The  tables  and  cabinets,  inlaid  with  gold 
and  precious  stones,  are  wonders  in  the  me- 
chanic arts. 

The  grounds  are  very  extensive.  From 
the  front  door  of  the  palace  you  look  down 
an  avenue  of  trees  about  twenty  rods  in 
width  and  a  mile  in  length,  and  perfectly 
level.  The  grass  is  as  green  as  in  midsum- 
mer. Then  such  ornamental  gardens,  and 
kept  in  such  exquisite  order  !  They  even 
surpass  ours  at  home !  The  house,  too,  is 
considerahly  larger  than  ours.    It  is  about 


CHESTER  HARDING,  227 


four  times  as  large  as  the  State  House  at 
Boston.  We  shall  never  see  anything  like  it 
in  our  country.  If  one  could  step  from  this 
splendid  pile  into  one  of  our  fine  houses  in 
Boston,  the  contrast  would  be  enough  to 
curb  the  ambition  of  the  proudest.  The 
main  part  of  this  splendid  building  is  not 
yet  finished,  though  it  was  up  to  the  first 
story  when  I  was  here  twenty-two  years  ago, 
and  the  architect  has  been  all  the  time  at 
work  upon  it.  Everything  about  it  is  of  the 
most  durable  material. 

The  question  naturally  arises,  whether  the 
owners  of  this  princely  mansion  are  any  hap- 
pier than  those  who  live  in  more  humble 
dwellings.  In  this  case,  I  believe  many  a 
man  who  lives  in  a  ten-footer  "  is  far  hap- 
pier than  Hamilton  with  all  his  titles  and 
wealth.  He  and  the  duchess  live  in  different 
parts  of  the  house,  keep  separate  carriages, 
and  never  travel  together.  There  is  this 
comfort  in  their  case,  the  house  is  large 
enough  for  twenty  families  to  live  in  it,  with- 
out elbowing  each  other. 

December  8.  Yesterday,  I  took  the  cars, 
and  went  out  to  Lord  Belhaven's  place  to 
dine.  His  carriage  was  waiting  for  me.  I 
found  a  brilliant  party  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men.   The  conversation  at  table  was  quiet 


228 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


and  unambitious,  and  I  at  once  felt  entirely 
at  home.  After  dinner,  Lady  Belhaven  was 
entertaining  me  with  some  curiosities  in  the 
drawing-room,  when  she  came  across  a  book 
of  pressed  leaves  from  America,  which,  she 
said,  was  a  present  from  Mr.  Everett.  She 
wished  me  to  tell  her  if  they  were  true  to 
nature  :  the  colors  were  so  brilliant  that  she 
could  hardly  think  they  were.  I  not  only 
assured  her  they  were  so,  but,  what  was 
more,  that  some  of  them  came  from  a  tree 
on  my  own  place.  I  recognized  the  peculiar 
coloring  of  the  leaves  on  the  maple  by  our 
gate,  and  remembered  when  L.  was  visit- 
ing you,  and  gathered  them  to  send  to  her 
uncle. 

London,  January  6,  1847.  Presented 
my  letter  to  Mr.  Rogers.  He  is  an  old  man, 
—  I  do  not  know  how  old,  but  I  should 
think  at  least  eighty.  He  stoops  a  good 
deal.  He  has  a  pale  face,  with  fine  head, 
and  features  full  of  expression.  I  hope  he 
will  sit  to  me  for  his  portrait ;  but  all  these 
lions  have  been  painted  so  often,  that  I 
wonder  how  they  can  treat  a  painter  with 
decent  respect.  One  of  the  greatest  objec- 
tions I  have  to  becoming  a  great  man  is  the 
tax  I  should  have  to  pay  in  time  and  pa- 
tience to  the  painters  and  sculptors.    So  I 


CHESTER  HARDING.  229 


believe,  on  tlie  whole,  I  won't  become  great. 
If,  however,  I  am  ever  doomed  to  that  dis- 
tinction, I  will  do  my  own  painting.  I  think 
some  of  anticipating  that  event  by  beginning 
a  portrait  of  myself  at  once,  and  sending 
it  to  the  Athenaeum.  If  I  do  commit  such 
a  folly,  I  intend  to  paint  it  in  a  choker  and 
make  it  look  as  much  like  a  gentleman  as 
the  case  will  admit  of. 

January  8.  I  breakfasted  to-day  with 
the  author  of  "Italy."  We  sat  down  at 
breakfast  at  half  past  ten.  We  had  good 
tea  and  coffee,  eggs,  and  cold  game,  with  a 
variety  of  cold  breads.  In  short,  poets,  that 
is  poet  bankers,  live  very  much  like  prose 
bodies,  for  aught  I  can  see. 

Mr.  Rogers  is  most  charming  in  conversa- 
tion. He  is  familiar  with  every  subject  both 
in  and  out  of  letters.  He  admires  Prescott 
very  much,  and  thinks  him  one  of  the  best 
writers  in  the  English  language.  He  thinks 
Mr.  Webster  one  of  the  greatest  men  living, 
and  idolizes  Mr.  Everett. 

January  16.  I  have  made  a  beginning 
of  the  portrait  of  Mr.  Rogers.  It  is  very 
troublesome,  on  account  of  his  deafness,  to 
keep  him  animated.  Once,  to-day,  he  fell 
asleep  while  sitting. 

He  remarked,  in  the  course  of  conversa- 


230 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


tion,  upon  the  importance  some  painters  at- 
tach to  the  high  finish  of  their  hands.  He 
said  they  ought  to  be  so  disposed  of  as  to 
attract  no  notice^  for  it  is  considered  the 
height  of  ill-breeding  to  be  found  looking  at 
a  person's  hands  or  dress  in  company.  What 
would  the  good  people  of  our  country  do, 
if  they  were  deprived  of  the  privilege  of 
looking  at  the  dresses,  hands,  and  feet  of  the 
company  they  are  in  ? 

Mr.  Rogers  told  me  a  story  yesterday.  He 
told  it  so  well,  that  I  am  afraid  to  attempt 
to  relate  it ;  but  I  will  try  to  give  you  the 
gist  of  it. 

About  forty  years  since,  a  clergyman  in 
Scotland  married  a  young  and  beautiful 
wife ;  and  hardly  was  she  his,  when  she 
died.  He  was  overwhelmed  with  grief.  The 
night  after  she  was  buried  in  the  family 
tomb,  he  was  sitting  up  late,  and  the  wait- 
ing-maid was  watching  her  almost  distracted 
master,  when  he  heard  a  knock  at  the  door. 
He  exclaimed  with  great  agitation,  "  That 
is  Mary's  knock  !  "  It  was  repeated,  and  he 
again  cried  out  that  it  was  Mary's  knock; 
and  again  a  third  time.  But  the  maid  would 
not  go  to  the  door.  He  at  length  opened 
it  himself,  and  Mary  fainted  in  his  arms. 
The  sexton  violated  the  tomb  ;  and,  in  at- 


CHESTEB  HARDING,  231 


tempting  to  wrench  the  wedding  ring  from 
her  finger,  he  aroused  her  from  her  trance. 
The  sexton  fled ;  and  she  found  her  way- 
home,  and  presented  herself  in  her  winding- 
sheet,  a  living  ghost,  to  her  husband. 

Imagine  Allston  telling  the  story,  and 
you  will  get  a  pretty  good  idea  of  Mr.  Rog- 
ers's manner. 

The  times  are  very  inauspicious  for  my 
work.  Trade  is  dull ;  and  the  fear  of  dis- 
tress in  England  makes  men  stare  at  each 
other,  and  wonder  where  it  is  to  end.  All 
one  hears  or  reads  in  the  papers  is  so  full  of 
the  famishing  Irish,  that  one  almost  wishes 
one's  self  in  the  blessed  United  States.  The 
debates  in  Parliament,  last  night,  give  a 
gloomy  picture  of  the  present,  and  offer  lit- 
tle hope  for  the  future  condition  of  that  un- 
happy country.  It  was  stated  that  one  fam- 
ily subsisted,  for  several  days,  on  a  carrion 
carcass  of  a  horse  that  was  so  far  decom- 
posed that  the  crows  had  left  it.  It  seems 
that  a  great  portion  of  the  Irish  ordinarily 
live  on  potatoes,  at  this  season  of  the  year ; 
that  resource  failing,  they  have  nothing  to 
substitute  for  them,  and  have  no  money  to 
buy  anything  to  keep  body  and  soul  to- 
gether. Only  think  of  the  coroner  sitting 
on  the  dead  bodies  of  twelve  or  fifteen  in  a 


232 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


day,  in  a  small  village,  all  of  whom  died  of 
hunger !    It  is  awful  indeed, 

February  25.  I  went  to  a  small  party- 
last  night,  at  Mr.  Bancroft's.  He  had  a  din- 
ner-party; and,  when  I  arrived,  the  gentle- 
men were  still  at  the  table.  I  went  in  and 
took  a  seat,  and  listened  to  an  animated  con- 
versation between  a  Captain  Wormley  and 
a  Scotchman.  There  was  something  strik- 
ing in  the  broad  accent  and  the  good  sense 
of  the  Scotchman,  which  attracted  my  at- 
tention. After  listening  a  while,  I  inquired 
his  name  ;  and  who  do  you  think  he  was  ? 
No  less  a  person  than  Thomas  Carlyle.  I 
was  afterwards  introduced  to  him,  and  had 
a  good  deal  of  conversation  with  him.  He 
talks  well,  easily,  and  naturally,  and  without 
the  least  tincture  of  Carlyleism.  He  has  a 
hard  face,  stiff  hair,  and,  in  short,  is  as  un- 
like the  literary  dandy  as  any  farmer  in  the 
land. 

March  25.  I  am  now  just  finishing  the 
picture  of  Lord  Aberdeen.  I  must  here 
relate  a  little  incident  which  is  rather  flat- 
tering to  me.  We  —  that  is,  my  lord  and  I 
—  were  speaking  of  the  Irish,  the  other  day ; 
and  I  remarked  that  the  more  that  is  given 
in  charity,  the  more  will  be  expected,  and 
illustrated  my  views  by  a  story,  which  was 


CHESTEB  HARDING,  233 


this  :  I  was  riding  on  top  of  a  stagecoach, 
on  Cape  Cod,  one  cold  February  day,  when 
I  espied  a  flock  of  sheep  in  the  field,  trying 
hard  to  get  something  to  eat  from  the  frozen 
ground,  I  said  to  the  stage-driver,  "  Is  it 
possible  these  sheep  run  out  all  winter?" 
"  Yes."  "  Of  course  they  feed  them  ?  " 
"  No,"  said  he,  "  they  used  to  do  so  ;  but 
the  farmers  find  when  they  feed  them  that 
they  won't  help  themselves,  but  only  hang 
about  the  pen  and  bleat  all  day.  But,  if 
they  are  left  to  take  care  of  themselves, 
they  manage  to  get  a  living,  and  come  out 
very  well  in  the  spring."  The  next  time  his 
lordship  gave  me  a  sitting,  he  said  that  he 
told  my  sheep  story  to  Sir  Robert  Peel,  at 
the  Queen's  table ;  and  it  struck  him  very 
forcibly. 

March  26.  To-day  was  Drawing-room 
at  the  Palace  of  St.  James.  I  did  not  go, 
because  I  was  not  "  expected."  I  went,  how- 
ever, to  see  the  pageant,  but  was  just  two 
minutes  too  late  to  see  the  Queen  arrive. 
So  I  waited  an  hour  and  a  half  for  her  re- 
turn. I  took  care  to  get  a  good  stand,  where 
I  was  not  more  than  twenty  feet  from  where 
she  must  pass  ;  and  then  waited  with  the 
patience  of  a  martyr.  At  last  the  royal 
procession  started.    All  were  on  tip-toe.  I 


234 


CHESTER  HABDING. 


was  tall  enough  without  that  resort.  She 
had  come  so  near  that  I  could  just  discern 
a  face  in  the  carriage,  when,  most  provok- 
ingly,  a  life-guardsman  rode  alongside  of  the 
carriage,  and  interposed  his  huge  body  just 
between  me  and  her  Majesty,  so  that  I  only 
saw  her  nose.  I  did  not  think  the  sight  of 
that  feature  worth  the  trouble  I  had  taken ; 
so  I  set  it  all  down  as  a  piece  of  mummery, 
and  went  with  my  friend  to  see  the  new 
Italian  opera-house. 

Mr.  Rogers  says  the  "  New  Timon "  is 
attributed  to  Bulwer.  He  does  not  seem  to 
think  so  much  of  it  as  you  Yankees  do.  He 
says  Bryant  or  Longfellow  are,  either  of 
them,  very  much  before  that  author,  who- 
ever he  may  be.  He  often  speaks  of  Bryant 
in  very  high  terms,  and  thinks  it  is  to  be 
regretted  that  a  man  of  such  genius  should 
waste  his  energies  in  editing  a  newspaper. 

Glasgow^  April  17.  I  left  London  on 
the  5th  for  this  region.  My  friend  C.  ad- 
vised me  to  come  by  steamer  from  Fleet- 
wood. I  dread  the  sea,  particularly  the 
Channel.  However,  the  weather  was  promis- 
ing, so  I  booked  for  Fleetwood.  It  is  a  run 
of  twelve  hours.  We  started  at  seven  in 
the  evening,  and  had  a  very  quiet  night. 
When  we  were  within  about  an  hour's  sail 


CHESTER  HARDING,  235 


of  our  port,  there  came  a  heavy  shower  of 
rain,  accompanied  with  high  wind.  The  sea 
was  almost  immediately  thrown  into  a  ter- 
rible commotion  ;  so  much  so,  that  the  cap- 
tain thought  it  unsafe  to  go  into  port,  where 
the  water  was  shallow,  at  low  tide.  So  we 
put  off  twelve  miles  to  the  island  of  Arran. 
The  wind  increased  to  a  terrific  gale.  We 
dragged  our  anchor  several  times  before  we 
fairly  got  settled.  A  boat,  with  four  men, 
came  out  from  shore  (where  the  water  was 
quite  smooth,  being  under  cover  of  the 
mountain),  making  for  the  steamer;  but, 
as  she  neared  us,  she  got  into  the  wind,  and 
was  blown  out  to  sea  at  a  fearful  rate.  The 
captain  pulled  up  anchor,  and  went  after 
them ;  and,  with  much  difficulty,  got  the 
poor  wretches  on  board.  They  were  com- 
pletely exhausted,  and  in  a  half-hour  more 
would  in  all  probability  have  gone  to  the 
bottom.  Another  two-masted,  open  fishing- 
boat  dragged  her  anchor,  and  was  driven 
out  to  sea ;  but,  fortunately,  a  steamer  was 
making  for  the  port  we  lay  in,  and  picked 
them  up.  We  lay  here  until  two  o'clock  ; 
and  then,  as  it  was  high  tide,  we  put  out 
for  the  port  of  our  destination.  But  I  can- 
not describe  to  you  the  horrors  of  the  scene : 
it  was  perfectly  awfuL    The  wind  blew  as 


i 

236  CHESTER  HABDING. 

if  it  would  blow  our  steamer  out  of  tlie 
water.  The  wind  was  partly  on  our  side, 
which  made  the  ship  lurch  frightfully.  One 
wheel  would  be  ten  feet  above  the  water, 
while  the  other  would  be  entirely  covered. 
But  we  had  the  most  perilous  part  of  our 
voyage  still  before  us.  The  channel  to  the 
harbor  is  narrow,  crooked,  and  rocky.  I 
never  saw  such  breakers  !  However,  we  es- 
caped all  the  dangers ;  and  I  never  was  so 
glad  to  put  myself  on  firm  footing  as  when 
I  stepped  on  shore.  We  had  many  ladies 
on  board  ;  all  were  sick  and  terrified.  Most 
of  the  gentlemen  were  in  the  same  plight. 
I  was  not  sick ;  but  I  cannot  say  I  was  not 
frightened.  Half  the  town  were  on  the 
wharf  to  see  us  come  in.  We  found  the 
railway  train  waiting,  and  in  an  hour  we 
were  safe  in  Glasgow. 

I  remained  in  the  city  three  days,  and 
then  set  off  for  the  city  of  the  '^Fair  Maid 
of  Perth."  I  spent  four  days  there,  a*nd 
had  two  days  of  salmon-fishmg.  I  do  not 
know  that  I  shall  ever  be  able  to  bring  my- 
self down  again  to  trout-fishing.  But  to  the 
sport.  We  fitted  up  and  went  into  the  boat, 
and  fished  for  an  hour.  We  were  beginning 
to  think  we  should  have  no  sport,  when,  all 
of  a  sudden,  a  salmon  took  my  fly.    J ehu  I 


CHESTER  HARDING.  237 


how  I  was  excited  !  But  I  tried  my  best  to 
keep  cool,  and  finally  succeeded  in  landing 
him.  He  weighed  sixteen  pounds.  This  was 
considered  a  great  feat,  as  it  is  seldom  a 
man  lands  his  first  fish.  I  took  two  more 
before  night,  and  went  home  well  satisfied. 
The  next  day  we  had  no  right  to  fish  for 
salmon,  so  we  took  a  tramp  of  ten  miles,  and 
fished  for  trout ;  but  it  seemed  like  child's 
play.  The  day  after,  we  tried  the  salmon 
again,  and  I  killed  two  more  ;  which  was 
doing  more  in  two  days  than  any  sportsman 
has  done  in  a  fortnight.  I  am  told  by  Mr. 
Stirling  that  I  am  talked  of  as  much  by  the 
gentry  for  my  exploits  as  old  "  Rough  and 
Ready  "  is  for  his.  But,  above  all,  I  am 
glad  to  find  my  health  improving. 

May  8.  This  is  the  last  letter  you  will 
receive  from  me  from  London.  I  am  booked 
for  the  4th  of  June.  I  am  sorry  to  return 
to  the  States  without  having  seen  more  of 
the  Old  World;  but  my  means  will  not 
allow  of  my  making  the  grand  tour.  As  I 
have  told  you,  my  health  has  been  such  that 
I  have  been  able  to  paint  but  little  for  the 
last  three  months,  and  it  is  too  enormously 
expensive  to  live  in  Europe  without  a  pretty 
liberal  income.  I  sometimes  fear  I  shall 
have  to  give  up  painting  altogether.    I  have 


238 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


great  faith,  however,  in  a  little  quiet  living 
at  home,  with  my  chicks  about  me.  My 
trouble  is  a  tendency  of  blood  to  the  head. 

May  14,  I  went  last  night  to  see  Jenny 
Lind.  I  saw  her  in  my  favorite  opera  of 
"  La  Sonnambula."  She  entirely  came  up 
to  my  youthful  imagination.  I  had  no  con- 
ception before  of  perfect  music  and  acting 
combined,  as  one  sees  them  in  this  Swedish 
Nightingale.  She  acted  the  part  of  Amina 
so  perfectly,  that  it  became  reality.  It  is 
impossible  that  she  did  not  feel  the  senti- 
ments she  uttered,  so  completely  would  her 
countenance  and  complexion  change  with  the 
passions  of  grief  or  joy  or  rage ;  at  times 
being  as  pale  as  a  ghost,  and  then  fresh  as 
a  rose.  Her  voice  and  execution  are  won- 
derful. I  never  saw  an  audience,  not  even 
at  the  Tremont  Theatre  when  Mrs.  Wood 
was  carrying  everybody  away,  half  so  much 
excited.  Bouquets  of  flowers  were  showered 
down  on  the  stage,  with  shouts  and  waving 
of  handkerchiefs.  When  she  addressed  her- 
self to  the  flowers,  — 

Not  thee,  —  of  dear  affection  — 
Are  the  sweet  pledges,"  etc., 

I  thought  we  should  all  have  gone  mad. 
The  Queen  and  Prince  Albert  were  there ; 
but  they  attracted  no  attention. 


CHESTER  HARDING.  239 


During  his  stay  in  England,  Mr.  Harding 
made  two  trips  to  Paris,  mainly  to  visit  the 
picture  galleries.  The  last  one  was  upon 
the  occasion  of  the  great  annual  exhibition 
of  modern  pictures  at  the  Louvre. 


CHAPTER  IX, 


Mr.  Harding  spent  the  winter  of  1847- 
1848,  which  followed  his  return  from  Eng- 
land, in  Washington,  and  there  enjoyed  a 
renewal  of  his  intimacy  with  Daniel  Web- 
ster, with  whom  he  and  the  Hon.  George 
Ashmun,  and  one  or  two  other  gentlemen 
who  messed  "  together,  were  in  the  habit 
of  dining  two  or  three  times  a  week.  He 
writes  :  "  These  family  dinners  were  charm- 
ing. We  always  found  sumptuous  fare, 
though  not  elaborate.  Often  the  great  fea- 
ture of  the  feast  would  be  chowder  or  dun- 
fish,  in  both  of  which  dishes  he  excelled. 
.  .  .  I  had  a  few  bottles  of  old  Scotch 
whiskey,  such  as  Wilson  &  Scott  have  im- 
mortalized under  the  name  of  '  mountain 
dew.'  This  beverage  is  always  used  with 
hot  water  and  sugar.  I  put  a  bottle  of  this 
whiskey  into  my  overcoat  pocket,  one  day 
when  I  was  going  to  dine  with  Mr.  Webster  ; 
but  I  thought,  before  presenting  it  to  him, 
I  would  see  who  was  in  the  drawing-room. 
I  put  the  bottle  on  the  entry  table,  walked 


CHESTER  HARDING^  241 


into  the  drawing-room ;  and,  seeing  none 
but  the  familiar  party,  said,  '  I  have  taken 
the  liberty  to  bring  a  Scotch  gentleman  to 
partake  of  your  hospitality  to-day.'  '  I  am 
most  happy,  sir,'  was  the  reply.  I  walked 
back  to  the  entry,  and  pointed  to  the  bottle. 
'  Oh !  '  said  he,  '  that  is  the  gentleman  that 
bathes  in  hot  water.'  " 

Later,  Mr.  Harding  says,  "I  do  think 
him  the  greatest  man  I  ever  came  in  contact 
with.  He  is  not  only  full  of  wisdom  and 
delightful  anecdote,  but  of  that  sort  of  play- 
ful wit  which  startles  the  more,  coming  from 
the  same  fountain,  as  it  does,  with  the  wisest 
maxims  that  man  ever  uttered.  With  all 
this  eulogium,  he  is  far  from  being  a  perfect 
character.  He  lacks  many  of  the  essentials 
requisite  in  the  formation  of  the  good  man. 
He  lacks  sympathy.  He  has  the  art  of  mak- 
ing many  admirers,  but  few  friends." 

It  was  during  this  winter  that  Mr.  Hard- 
ing painted  the  full-length  portrait  of  Mr. 
Webster  which  hangs  on  the  wall  of  the 
Athenaeum ;  and  also  that  of  Henry  Clay 
which  hangs  in  the  City  Hall  in  Washing- 
ton. 

TO  J.  M.  K. 

Washington,  January/  23,  1848. 

Dear  Son,  —  ...  I  suppose  I  am  to  paint 


242  CHESTER  HABBING, 


Mr.  Clay  for  the  citizens  of  Washington, 
unless  he  refuses  to  sit.  The  subscription 
paper  is  circulating.  He  is  averse  to  sitting, 
but  he  said  in  my  presence,  the  other  even- 
ing, that  if  the  thing  could  not  be  stopped, 
he  should  have  to  sit."  I  met  him  at  a 
party  at  Mr.  Bodisco's  (the  Russian  ambas- 
sador), and  it  seems  the  mayor  of  the  city 
had  spoken  to  him  about  the  picture.  As 
I  shook  hands  with  him  he  said,  I  learned 
to-day,  with  so7ne  apprehension^  that  you 
were  in  town."  I  can't  blame  him,  for  I 
don't  know  a  greater  bore  than  to  sit  for  a 
portrait. 

Washington  is  a  very  pleasant  place  for 
the  winter,  in  many  respects.  One  meets 
with  the  great  men  of  the  nation,  and  withal 
the  climate  is  good.  I  dined  yesterday  with 
the  Speaker,  and  met  Governor  Seward, 
Senator  Rives  of  Virginia,  and  a  dozen 
other  lesser  lights.  Mr.  Rives  is  full  of 
brightness  and  perhaps  talent,  but  it  strikes 
me  that  Seward  is  the  greater  man  of  the 
two.  Webster  is  head  and  shoulders  above 
all  the  great  men  that  I  have  met  here.  He 
has  more  wisdom  and  wit  and  everything 
that  marks  the  great  man  than  all  of  them 
put  together.  I  can,  however,  hardly  draw 
a  just  comparison  between  him  and  Mr. 


CHESTER  HARDING.  243 


Clay,  from  my  own  observation,  as  I  know 
so  little  of  the  latter.  I  have  met  Mr.  Web- 
ster at  small  dinner  and  supper  parties,  and 
I  must  say  that  he  never  appears  greater 
than  when  he  throws  off  the  great  man.  Mr. 
Calhoun  called  on  me  the  other  day,  and  sat 
and  talked  for  an  hour.  lie  certainly  talks 
well,  but  his  talk  in  private  is  only  a  sy- 
nopsis of  his  talk  in  public,  all  charming, 
but  not  so  charming  as  Webster's  volleys  of 
wit  and  wisdom,  which  are  always  happily 
blended. 

TO  M.  E.  H. 

Washington,  May  3,  1848. 

I  left  Baltimore  last  evening,  and  shall 
return  this  evening.  My  business  here  is  to 
look  after  the  pay  for  Mr.  Clay's  picture.  I 
fear  the  "  look  "  will  be  comparatively  fruit- 
less. Many  of  the  subscribers  refuse  to  pay 
up,  on  the  ground  that  by  his  last  letter  he 
has  blasted  his  prospects  for  the  nomination 
and  election.  .  .  . 

I  shall  leave  Baltimore  in  a  few  days  for 
the  North.  Not  that  I  have  any  designs 
upon  the  poor,  unsuspecting  trout,  for  I 
have  a  chance  of  doing  a  little  in  that  way 
in  this  region.  Yet  I  like  the  climate  of 
the  North,  I  like  the  people  of  the  North,  I 
like  my  home  at  the  North,  and  I  mean  to 
go  North  very  soon. 


244  CHESTER  HARDING, 


The  winter  of  1848-49  was  spent  in  Buf- 
falo. The  following  little  incident,  which 
occurred  while  there,  amused  Mr.  Harding 
highly,  and  he  thus  relates  it :  — 

"  I  wrote  to  A.  S.  Upham,  then  senator 
from  Genesee  County ;  and  directed  the 
letter,  as  usual,  to  Hon,  A.  S.  Upham.  Mr, 
Upham  had  been  a  wagon-maker  ;  and  was, 
like  myself,  a  self-made  man.  He  was  at 
this  time  engaged  very  extensively  in  car- 
making  for  the  New  York  Central  Railroad. 
As  I  did  not  receive  an  answer  as  promptly 
as  I  expected,  I  wrote  him  another  letter, 
and  directed  to  Mr.  A.  S.  Upham,  Wagoii- 
maker.  This  he  answered  at  once,  and  di- 
rected the  letter  to  Mr.  Chester  Harding, 
Sign  and  Chair  Painter.''^ 

Although  Mr.  Harding  continued  to  fol- 
low his  profession,  during  the  winter  months, 
even  to  the  last  year  of  his  life,  his  active 
career  as  an  artist  began  to  decline  from 
this  time.  He  says  of  this  period  of  his 
life:  — 

"As  I  find  myself  growing  old,  and  my 
family  grown  beyond  my  immediate  care,  I 
vary  my  pursuits.  I  always  had  a  passion  for 
field  sports,  and  have,  for  the  last  twenty  or 
thirty  summers,  indulged  more  or  less  in 
the  pastimes  of  shooting  and  trout-fishing ; 


CHESTER  HABDING,  245 


and  have  found  them  healthful  and  inno- 
cent. I  have  spent  many  seasons  among  the 
White  Hills  ;  and,  in  later  years,  much  of 
my  summer  leisure  has  been  spent  at  the 
Saguenay,  Lower  Canada.  This  place  is 
becoming  a  resort  for  excursionists.  It  is 
certainly  a  wonderful  river,  wonderful  for 
its  depth  and  bold  shores,  and  the  shoals 
of  porpoises  that  are  sporting  in  the  tide. 
Hundreds  of  the  white  porpoise  may  be  seen 
at  almost  any  hour  of  the  day.  The  scenery 
on  this  river  is  grand.  A  Church  or  Bier- 
stadt  might  revel  in  it. 

"  I  wish  to  record  my  appreciation  of  the 
hospitality  I  have  received  at  the  house  of 
Mr.  Radford,  for  six  consecutive  summers. 
He  is  the  only  Englishman  living  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Saguenay.  He  fills  the  several 
offices  of  magistrate,  postmaster,  and  col- 
lector of  the  port.  All  the  inhabitants  of 
the  neighborhood,  with  this  exception,  are 
of  the  lower  order  of  the  French.  *  Trout- 
fishing  is  the  principal  amusement,  with  an 
occasional  fight  with  the  salmon.  One  meets 
many  gentlemen  sportsmen  from  Montreal 
and  Quebec.  Altogether,  I  think  this  place 
the  most  attractive,  for  the  lovers  of  sport 
and  grand  scenery,  of  any  resort  I  have  ever 
visited." 


246  CHESTER  HABDING. 


He  spent  his  winters  in  some  of  the  large 
cities,  as  Boston,  New  York,  Washington, 
or  St.  Louis ;  but,  though  familiar  with 
them  all,  none  seemed  to  him  so  much  like 
home,  or  claimed  so  large  a  share  of  his 
affections,  as  Boston.    He  says :  — 

"  I  have  been,  from'  infancy,  such  a  cos- 
mopolite, that  I  can  hardly  claim  any  por- 
tion of  the  United  States  as  home  ;  yet  I 
feel  that  I  owe  more  to  Boston  than  any 
other  place ;  more  of  my  professional  life 
has  been  spent  in  that  city  than  anywhere, 
and  it  is  around  it  that  my  most  grateful  rec- 
ollections cluster.  The  liberal  patronage 
I  have  received,  and  the  friendships  I  have 
formed  there,  make  the  place  dear  to  me. 
The  most  liberal  patronage  I  have  enjoyed 
has  been,  perhaps,  from  the  Lawrences.  I 
have  painted  all  of  them,  and  many  of  their 
children.  My  full-length  portrait  of  Amos 
Lawrence  I  consider  the  best  thing  I  have 
ever  done  in  my  whole  artistic  career.  I 
also  painted  a  full-length  of  Abbott  Law- 
rence. 

"  I  am  proud  to  record  my  acknowledg- 
ment of  many  kind  attentions  from  this 
noble  race  of  men.  Their  character  for  en- 
terprise and  their  success  are  not  more  re- 
markable than  their  noble  bequests,  as  the 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


247 


institutions  of  the  State  can  attest;  while 
the  poor  of  the  city  were  not  overlooked  in 
their  bounties.  Few  men  leave  a  prouder 
record  behind  them." 

The  latter  years  of  Mr.  Harding's  life 
were  overshadowed  by  anxieties  growing  out 
of  the  War  of  the  Eebellion.  He  was  the 
more  oppressed  by  them,  as  he  had  four 
sons  in  the  contest  ;  two  on  each  side. 
Scarcely  any  record  of  this  period  remains, 
however.  The  scanty  extracts  which  are 
appended  may  give  some  slight  indication 
of  his  views  and  feelings  during  the  early 
part  of  the  struggle.  No  one  rejoiced  more 
than  he  at  the  final  cessation  of  hostilities. 

TO  H.  H. 

New  York  Hotel,  December  21,  1860. 
It  seems  that  the  first  step  in  the  march 
of  revolution  was  taken  yesterday  by  South 
Carolina,  and  I  fear  other  States  will  take 
the  same  insane  course.  Though  there  are 
many  loud -mouthed  demagogues  at  the 
North,  there  is  yet  a  large  majority  in  the 
free  States  who  are  willing  to  do  justice  to 
the  South  if  they  could  be  allowed  time  to 
act  in  their  legislatures.  All  the  obnoxious 
laws  would  be  repealed,  and  I  think  the 
North  would  be  willing  to  give  any  addi- 


248  CHESTER  HARDING. 


tional  guarantees  to  the  South  for  the  ful- 
fillment of  their  constitutional  obligations. 
This  rash  step  of  South  Carolina,  however, 
closes  the  door  against  amicable  adjustment 
of  the  troubles.  What  is  to  be  the  end  of 
it  is  beyond  the  sagacity  of  man  to  foretell. 
We  must  wait  the  course  of  events  with 
what  patience  we  can.  I  fear  the  dream  of 
peaceable  secession  will  never  be  realized. 
Once  let  the  mad  spirit  of  revolution  loose, 
and  the  most  direful  consequences  are  to  be 
dreaded.  Still  I  hope  on,  though  it  is  hop- 
ing against  hope. 

TO  J.  M.  K. 

New  York,  August,  1861. 

Things  look  a  little  better  in  Missouri, 
when  viewed  from  a  distance ;  how  long 
they  may  continue  so  remains  to  be  seen. 
The  enemy  is  very  sharp  and  no  one  can 
guess  their  next  move  in  your  State. 

The  loss  of  Lyon  was  a  serious  one.  We 
have  not  many  such  to  spare.  I  do  think 
that  it  was  his  own  rashness  that  caused  him 
to  fall.  There  were  probably  twenty  rifles 
levelled  at  him  at  once.  Why  should  he 
have  made  himself  so  conspicuous  a  mark 
for  the  sharpshooters  ?    Why  not  have  the 


CHESTEB  HABDING. 


249 


general  in  a  less  prominent  place,  with  noth- 
ing to  attract  the  fire  of  the  enemy  ?  .  .  . 

I  have  just  returned  from  Chateauguay 
Lake.  All  the  way  to  this  place  I  saw 
troops  at  the  stations ;  some  just  recruit- 
ing, others  on  their  way  to  join  their  regi- 
ment in  Boston  or  New  York.  There  will 
be  no  lack  of  men  ;  the  question  then  comes, 
have  we  enough  of  tried  commanders  ?  Of 
what  use  are  the  best  of  troops  under  in- 
competent leaders  ? 

I  expect  to  dine  on  Sunday  next  on  a 
haunch  of  venison  which  I  killed  and  sent 
home  ten  days  ago. 

TO  M.  o.  K. 

September  2,  1861. 
I  am  delighted  with  the  course  that  Fre- 
mont has  marked  out ;  if  he  only  will  carry 
it  out,  I  shall  be  content.  I  fear,  however, 
it  is  like  the  rats  that  voted  to  have  the  cat 
belled.  It  was  thought  an  excellent  move, 
but  who  should  bell  the  cat  ?  I  fear  the 
Eebels  have  got  too  strong  a  footing  in  Mis- 
souri to  be  put  down.  To-day's  paper  gives 
us  the  account  of  the  taking  of  a  fort  in 
North  Carolina,  the  first  move  that  has  been 
made  without  its  being  trumpeted  to  the 
world,  —  to  the  enemy  of  course. 


260 


CRESTEll  HABBING. 


TO  W.  O.  W. 

Springfield,  December  25, 1862. 

We  hear  from  St.  Louis  often,  but  noth- 
ing from  the  soldier  boys.  It  would  be 
wonderful  if  we  did  not,  before  the  strife  is 
over,  hear  something  of  a  painful  character  ; 
but  let  us  hope  for  the  best.  The  news  from 
the  Western  army  is  not  very  cheering,  as 
I  view  it,  and  what  has  come  to  us  from  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  is  painful  in  the  high- 
est degree,  and  I  fear  is  only  a  foreshadow- 
ing of  what  is  to  come.  Look  at  a  regiment 
of  a  thousand  men  marching  in  platoons 
through  the  street ;  —  see  what  a  show  of 
numbers!  Imagine  ten  times  that  number 
dead  and  dying  on  the  battle-field,  and  one 
will  realize  the  horrors  of  war.  I  am  too 
deeply  imbued  with  this  sad  subject  to  write 
upon  any  less  exciting  topic. 

Gold,  as  you  will  see  by  the  papers,  is 
worth  69^  premium ;  in  other  words  one 
dollar  of  currency  is  worth  about  forty 
cents.  How  much  lower  it  will  go,  no  one 
can  tell." 

TO  M.  E.  w. 

1864. 

I  am  getting  too  old  to  enjoy  city  life. 
I  feel  somewhat  like  the  old  woman  who 


CHESTER  HARDING,  251 

was  complimented  on  her  youthful  appear- 
ance. "  Oh,  la,"  she  said,  "  I  am  only  fit  for 
the  kingdom  o£  heaven,  and  hardly  that." 

The  last  winter  of  Mr.  Harding's  life  was 
spent  in  St.  Louis,  with  his  children  there. 
During  the  winter,  he  painted  a  nearly  full- 
length  portrait  of  Major-General  Sherman ; 
and  the  fidelity  of  the  likeness  and  the 
composition  and  finish  of  the  picture  were 
pronounced  equal  to  any  he  had  ever  painted 
at  any  period  of  his  life.  He  greatly  en- 
joyed the  work  himself,  and  derived  great 
pleasure  from  his  acquaintance  with  his  il- 
lustrious countryman,  of  whom  he  thus 
speaks,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  in  Canada :  — 

"I  am  now  painting  General  Sherman, 
the  real  hero  of  the  great  war  that  has 
ended.  He  is  a  sort  of  Wellington  in  his 
appearance,  small  of  stature,  but  full  of 
character,  and  every  inch  a  soldier.  He  has 
good  and  elevated  notions  of  things,  not 
only  military,  but  political.  It  is  a  pleasure 
to  have  such  a  man  before  me,  where  I  can 
tell  him  to  turn  this  way  or  that,  and  to  come 
at  my  bidding." 

That  the  pleasure  derived  from  this  ac- 
quaintance was  in  some  degree  mutual  may 
be  seen  from  the  following  note,  written  upon 
receiving  news  of  Mr.  Harding's  death :  — 


252  CHESTER  HABBING. 


St.  Louis,  Mo.,  April  3,  1866. 

Hon.  J.  M.  Krum. 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  have  learned,  with  pain  and 
sorrow,  the  death  of  Chester  Harding,  artist.  I 
shall  always  remember  the  many  pleasant,  quiet 
interviews  with  which  I  was  so  lately  favored  by 
him,  while  painting  my  portrait ;  and  beg  you  will 
consider  me  as  one  of  his  best  friends.  .  .  . 

I  beg  to  assure  you  of  my  deep  and  heart- 
felt sympathy.        Your  friend, 

W.  T.  Sherman, 

Major-  General. 

Mr.  Harding  left  St.  Louis,  in  the  month 
of  February,  for  his  home  in  Springfield ; 
but  the  journey  proved  a  very  severe  one, 
and  undoubtedly  made  a  serious  draught 
upon  the  strength  of  a  man  of  his  years. 
He  thus  describes  it  in  a  letter  to  one  of  his 
children :  — 

Springfield,  February  27,  1866. 

Dear  M.,  —  I  am  once  more  at  home, 
after  the  worst  time  mortal  ever  had  on  the 
journey.  I  was  snow-bound  five  days,  during 
the  coldest  weather  I  ever  saw,  and  in  the 
poorest  house  that  mortal  ever  slept  in  ;  no 
fire  in  my  room,  and  none  in  the  halls,  with 
windows  that  let  the  snow  drift  in.  I  could 
only  keep  from  freezing  by  piling  on  blan- 


CHESTER  HARDING,  253 


kets,  my  own  shawl,  and  overcoat ;  and  then 
I  could  not  have  my  hand  exposed  outside 
of  the  covering  ;  it  would  have  frozen  in 
twenty  minutes.  I  covered  myself  entirely, 
and  drew  myself  up,  much  as  you  can  im- 
agine a  bear  to  do  when  he  is  burrowing  in 
midwinter.  However,  I  am  now  all  right. 
.  .  .  I  have  a  capital  likeness  of  General 
Sherman,  which  he  sat  for  in  St.  Louis.  I 
think  you  would  say  at  once  that  it  is  a 
capital  likeness,  without  ever  having  seen 
the  original. 

I  think  this  longer  than  the  average  of 
my  letters ;  so  I  will  conclude,  with  love  to 
W.  and  E.,  and  am, 

Yours,  affectionately, 

Chester  Harding. 

After  his  return  to  Springfield,  he  oc- 
cupied himself  with  putting  the  last  touches 
to  his  picture  of  Sherman.  Had  he  known 
it  was  to  be  the  last  work  of  his  hands,  he 
could  not  have  labored  on  it  with  more  care, 
or  looked  upon  it  with  more  affection.  The 
pleasure  and  interest  with  which  he  used  to 
pursue  his  work,  in  his  younger  days,  seemed 
to  have  been  aroused  once  niore,  as  if  to 
vindicate  the  undying  nature  of  those  quali- 
ties of  mind  and  heart  which  constitute  the 


254  CHESTER  HARDING, 


artist.  He  put  the  finishing  touch  to  the 
picture,  the  day  before  he  started  on  his  last 
journey  to  Boston.  Some  friend  coming  in, 
he  playfully  pointed  out  to  him  a  stream  of 
water  he  had  introduced  into  the  back- 
ground of  the  picture,  saying,  "  That  is  a 
trout-brook  ;  and  there,"  indicating  the  place 
with  his  brush,  is  the  hole  where  the  big 
fellows  lie."  "  You  ought  to  paint  yourself 
there  fishing,"  responded  the  friend.  "  No, 
indeed,"  he  replied  ;  "  it  would  n't  do  for  a 
little  fisherman  to  stand  by  the  side  of  such 
a  big  general." 

The  date  of  the  following  note  shows  that 
one  of  the  last  acts  of  his  life  was  a  kindly 
one.  It  was  from  a  brother  artist  who  was 
struggling  with  ill-health  and  straitened  cir- 
cumstances. 

Springfield,  March  5,  1866. 
Dear  Mk.  Harding,  —  My  heart  is  too  full 
for  words.  I  cannot  express  my  thanks  for  the 
very  generous  gift  received  from  you  yesterday. 
The  least  I  can  say  is,  I  thank  you  most  sin- 
cerely, and  shall  ever  cherish  the  memory  of  one, 
who  alone  can  possess  so  generous  a  heart  to 
prompt  to  noble  deeds.  May  the  blessing  of  the 
Lord  that  maketh  rich  be  yours ! 

Sincerely  yours, 


CHESTER  HARDING,  255 


On  March  27  he  started  for  Boston,  on 
his  way  to  Sandwich,  on  Cape  Cod,  which 
was  his  favorite  resort  for  trout-fishing  in 
the  early  spring.  He  was,  apparently,  in 
good  health  and  in  fine  spirits.  On  his  way 
to  the  station,  he  met  a  friend,  and,  shak- 
ing his  rod  at  him,  called  out,  "  Never  felt 
more  like  it  in  my  life,"  He  took  a  severe 
cold  on  the  journey  and  did  not  leave  Bos- 
ton the  next  day,  as  he  had  expected,  al- 
though he  was  able  to  go  to  his  club  in  the 
evening.  His  cold  increasing,  he  was  per- 
suaded to  send  for  a  physician ;  but  no 
alarm  was  felt,  either  by  himself  or  his  at- 
tendants, with  regard  to  his  illness.  When 
asked  if  some  of  his  family  had  not  better 
be  notified  of  his  illness,  he  said,  "  Oh  !  no  ; 
it  is  not  worth  while."  He  was  not  confined 
to  his  room  until  Sunday  morning ;  when, 
after  getting  up  and  dressing  himself,  a 
prostration  so  sudden  and  complete  came 
over  him  as  to  make  it  a  matter  of  great 
difficulty  to  get  him  on  to  his  bed.  From  this 
time  he  sank  rapidly.  His  mind  seemed  to 
sympathize  with  the  weakness  of  his  body  ; 
and  he  made  no  effort  at  conversation,  and 
made  no  sign  of  having  any  consciousness  of 
his  situation.  He  breathed  his  last,  April  1, 
at  ten  o'clock,  Sunday  evening,  before  any 


256  CHESTER  HARDING. 


of  his  children,  who  had  been  summoned  at 
the  appearance  of  danger,  could  reach  him. 
His  death  was  such  as  he  had  often  hoped 
for,  sudden,  painless,  and  before  the  failure 
of  physical  or  mental  powers. 

His  remains  were  taken  to  Springfield, 
and  placed  by  the  side  of  his  faithful  and 
beloved  wife,  in  the  cemetery  which  he  had 
done  much  to  adorn ;  and  where  he  had 
seen  gathered,  one  by  one,  most  of  that  gen- 
eration whose  intellectual  and  social  gifts 
and  friendship  for  himself  had  made  the 
place  so  attractive  to  him,  when,  thirty-six 
years  before,  he  had  selected  it  for  his 
home. 

His  decease  was  announced  to  the  public 
by  the  following  appreciative  notice  in  the 
"  Evening  Transcript "  of  April  2,  1866  :  — 

"  We  deeply  regret  to  announce  the  death,  at 
the  age  of  seventy-three,  of  Chester  Harding,  the 
most  venerable  of  American  artists,  and  one  of 
the  most  eminent  and  accomplished.  He  died 
last  evening  at  his  rooms  in  the  Tremont  House. 
Few  persons  in  the  country  were  so  widely 
known,  and  so  generally  esteemed.  A  self-edu- 
cated artist,  who  rose  from  the  humblest  begin- 
nings to  be  the  companion,  as  well  as  painter,  of 
nobles  and  statesmen,  he  had  that  innate  gentle- 
manliness  which  placed  him  on  an  equality  with 


CHESTER  HARDING, 


257 


every  circle  in  which  he  moved,  while  he  never 
lost,  in  conventional  society,  the  vigorous  man- 
hood which  he  had  learned  in  the  woods  and 
fields. 

"It  was  impossible  to  see  him  without  both 
liking  and  admiring  him  ;  he  had  in  his  heart,  as 
well  as  in  his  manners,  that  quality  which  wins 
affection  at  the  same  time  it  inspires  respect ; 
and  his  constant  regard  for  the  rights  and  feel- 
ings of  others  was  his  shield  against  any  invasion 
of  his  own.  A  duke  who  met  him  in  a  drawing- 
room,  a  country  lad  who  was  his  companion  in  a 
fishing  excursion,  would  find  that  his  manhood 
was  broad  enough  for  both.  He  visited  England 
twice ;  and  there  was  hardly  a  place  in  the 
United  States  where  he  was  not  known.  His 
conversation  was  rich  in  recollections  of  eminent 
men  of  all  kinds  in  both  hemispheres,  while  it 
was  absolutely  untainted  by  self-assertion  and 
self-conceit.  At  one  time  we  heard  of  him  as 
painting  Daniel  Webster  at  Washington  ;  and, 
soon  after,  that  he  had  started  off  to  the  wilds 
of  the  West  to  paint  Daniel  Boone.  One  of  his 
last  works  was  an  admirable  portrait  of  General 
Sherman,  which  many  of  our  readers  will  re- 
member as  among  the  finest  things  in  the  exhibi- 
tion at  the  recent  artists'  reception.  He  had  an 
instinctive  attraction  for  all  manhood,  no  matter 
what  might  be  the  field  in  which  it  was  exer- 
cised. 

"  The  summers  of  his  later  years  having  been 


258  CHESTER  HARDING. 


spent  in  many  field  exercises  and  sports,  his  old 
age  was  so  hale  and  vigorous,  that  the  announce- 
ment of  his  death  will  strike  his  friends  with  sur- 
prise as  well  as  pain.  Few  men  could  leave  be- 
hind them  a  more  genial  memory,  or  one  which 
will  be  more  warmly  cherished  by  a  large  circle 
of  friends." 

One  who  had  known  him  familiarly  for  a 
few  years  preceding  his  death  thus  writes :  — 
Mr.  Harding  won  upon  my  heart,  as  I  be- 
lieve he  did  that  of  every  one,  from  the  first ;  and 
he  had  that  rare  charm  of  manner  which,  while 
thoroughly  dignified,  made  every  one  feel  at 
ease ;  there  was  no  false  pretension  or  hauteur 
about  him.  His  conversation  was  always  rich 
and  instructive  ;  and,  when  with  him,  I  invari- 
ably heard  something  which  I  should  have  been 
sorry  not  to  know. 

Moving,  as  he  had  familiarly,  in  the  highest 
circles  of  rank  and  talent,  he  was  singularly 
modest ;  and  he  seldom  mentioned  the  distin- 
guished people  he  had  known,  unless  directly 
asked  about  them.  He  never  coupled  a  duke  and 
a  dinner,  nor  prefaced  a  story  with,  '  When  I  was 
abroad  with  the  Princess  Orbitella.'  .  .  . 

''His  host  of  friends  will  bear  a  life-long  testi- 
mony to  his  virtues  and  accomplishments.  These 
attributes 

'  Shall  long  keep  his  memory  green  in  our  souls.' 

while  his  many  masterly  portraits  will  perpetuate 
his  name  in  American  art." 


CHESTER  HARDING.  259 


"  The  late  Chester  Harding  was  not  only  a  fin- 
ished artist,  himself,  but  did  much  to  aid  and  en- 
courage others  to  perfect  themselves  in  drawing 
and  painting.  In  1841-1842,  when  in  Boston, 
he  gave  much  encouragement  to  the  formation 
of  '  The  Artists'  Association,'  which,  for  the 
time,  created  much  interest,  and  drew  together  a 
number  of  the  then  most  successful  as  well  as 
many  of  the  young  aspiring  artists,  who  had  not 
arrived  at  distinction  in  their  profession.  All- 
ston  was  the  acknowledged  head,  and  Harding 
came  next  in  grade. 

"  Harding's  gallery  in  School  Street  at  that 
time  became  a  popular  place  of  artistic  resort ; 
and  many  will  remember  it  as  the  scene  of  the 
revival  of  the  arts  in  Boston. 

"  Harding  was  very  fond  of  trouting,  and  gen- 
erally visited  the  White  Mountains  once  a  year, 
usually  taking  the  stage  to  Conway  and  fishing 
up  the  Saco  to  the  elder  Crawford's,  where  he 
rested  a  day  or  two,  and  then  branched  off  upon 
collateral  streams,  bringing  home  a  well-filled 
basket  of  trout  each  night  for  a  week.  Some- 
times he  went  to  the  Cape  with  like  success,  and 
would  walk  twenty  miles  a  day  to  skim  the 
brooks  of  their  speckled  tribe.  Sometimes  he 
wore  high  rubber  boots,  but  generally  waded  in 
old  leathers,  with  feet  soaking  ten  hours  at  a 
time."  —  Springfield  Republican. 

"  He  had  rare  gifts  of  conversation,  he  at- 
tached his  friends  to  him  most  warmly,  he  had 


260  CHESTER  HARDING. 


a  spirit  of  insight  for  discovering  character,  and 
an  appreciative  sense  of  the  true,  the  beautiful, 
and  the  good.  He  was  the  Daniel  Webster  of 
his  art,  with  like  massiveness  and  compass  of 
nature."  —  Boston  Transcript 

N.  P.  Willis,  in  "  The  Home  Journal/' 
thus  alludes  to  the  impression  Mr.  Harding 
made  during  his  first  visit  to  England :  — 

Years  afterward,  I  became  a  guest  at  Gor- 
don Castle  ;  and  there,  strangely  enough,  my  best 
authority  with  the  Duchess  of  Gordon,  and  the 
brilliant  ladies  who  formed  the  court  around  her, 
w^as  my  assured  intimacy  with  Harding  the  artist. 
Her  ladyship's  first  question  was  of  the  '  prairie 
nobleman,'  as  they  described  this  Western  artist ; 
and  whom  they  considered  a  splendid  specimen 
of  a  most  gifted  man,  the  American  chance  vis- 
itor to  their  titled  circle,  and  the  painter  of  some 
of  their  most  distinguished  portraits,  a  few  years 
before.  Visitor  as  I  was  on  that  same  visit  to 
Scotland,  at  Dalhousie  Castle,  I  found  my  in- 
troduction everywhere  the  best,  as  the  'young 
friend  of  Harding  the  Artist.' 

"  Harding's  portraits,  painted  during  his  first 
visit  to  England,  are  all  memorable.  They  have 
been  treasured,  I  believe,  as  masterpieces,  both 
of  drawing  and  color,  while  the  conceptions  of 
character  have  been  considered  so  felicitous  as  to 
be  copied  for  reproduction  in  this  country. 

"  I  shall  give  to  our  readers  a  treasure,  if  I 


CHESTER  HARDING.  261 


transcribe  a  copy  of  an  autograph  letter  from 
Harding,  as  it  spreads  open  before  me  at  this 
moment,  describing  one  of  these  :  — - 

September  2. 

Dear  Willis,  —  I  have  a  portrait  of  the 
Duke  of  Hamilton  which  I  wish  to  present  to 
you.  I  should  like  to  have  it  hang  in  your  li- 
brary. There  is  nothing  in  particular,  of  a  his- 
toric character,  attached  to  the  original.  But 
the  fact  that  I  painted  it  at  a  time  in  my  life 
when  my  enthusiasm  and  ambition  in  art  were 
at  their  highest,  and  it  being  the  crowning  point 
of  my  success  as  an  artist  in  England,  I  hope 
will  give  it  some  value  in  your  estimation.  It 
gave  me  more  applause,  both  in  Edinburgh  and 
London,  than  any  picture  I  ever  painted.  It 
was  exhibited  in  Edinburgh,  and  at  the  Royal 
Academy  in  London,  and  very  flattering  notice 
of  it  was  taken  in  both  cities.  I  have  never 
been  more  fortunate  in  the  coloring  of  a  head, 
nor  do  I  now  think  of  any  contemporary  artist 
who  has  much  surpassed  it.  Don't  set  this  down 
as  vanity.  I  can  look  at  it  as  I  would  at  any 
other  antique,  —  and  my  ambition  is  that  it  may 
be  placed  where  it  will  be  appreciated. 

"  With  kindly  regards  to  your  lovely  wife  and 
children,  I  am  your  friend, 

"Chester  Harding.'' 

The  "  Boston  Post  "  said  of  him :  — 

"  He  ranked  with  the  representative  painters 


262 


CHESTER  HARDING. 


of  America  and  in  him  American  art  was  made 
honorable  at  home  and  respectable  abroad.  When 
most  who  are  now  turned  of  ripe  age  were  chil- 
dren, Harding  was  engaged  in  painting  on  dur- 
able canvas  hosts  of  private  men  of  worth,  and  an 
illustrious  band  of  the  public  men  associated  in 
public  life  at  Washington  and  elsewhere.  If  from 
the  artist  we  turn  to  the  man,  we  shall  find  enough 
to  justify  abundantly  the  strong  hold  he  had  upon 
private  affection  and  individual  esteem.  He  was 
a  man  every  way  free  of  reproach,  and  in  all 
respects  entitled  to  esteem,  and  fitted  to  inspire 
love.  He  was  the  father  of  a  numerous  family, 
now  grown  to  manhood  and  womanhood,  and 
settled  successfully  in  various  parts  of  the  coun- 
try. To  them  this  blow  will  come  with  stunning 
effect.  But  his  title  to  love  and  veneration  were 
not  limited  to  his  relatives  and  his  family.  All 
who  knew  him  loved  him.  He  was  of  kindly, 
social  feeling,  and,  for  one  of  his  years,  convivial 
and  jovial.  He  was  ever  young  in  his  feelings 
and  fresh  in  his  views,  and  liberal  in  his  opinions. 
Age  rested  gracefully  upon  him.  His  flowing 
white  locks  added  a  venerable  aspect  to  his  portly 
and  commanding  presence.  He  was  not  a  pro- 
fessed scholar,  nor  a  great  reader  beyond  his  art, 
or  even  in  that ;  for  he  believed  in  the  inspira- 
tion of  artistic  genius,  rather  than  the  studies  of 
the  closet.  Although  master  of  the  great  prin- 
ciples of  his  art,  he  needed  only  the  human  face 
divine  and  the  pencil  of  his  own  genius  to  give 


CHESTER  HARDING.  263 


life  to  the  moving  canvas.  Hence  he  belonged 
to  the  order  of  original  artists.  He  copied  no 
man,  and  he  flattered  no  man.  He  aimed  in  his 
art  to  be  truthful,  accurate,  and  just,  hence  he 
did  not  always  please  the  vain  nor  satisfy  the 
proud.  A  younger  order  of  artists  also  were 
accustomed  to  complain  that  he  fell  behind  the 
progress  of  art  rather  than  kept  pace  with  it. 
The  modern  innovations  of  mechanical  painting 
of  the  human  face,  also,  served  somewhat  to  in- 
terfere with  his  eminence  in  the  later  years  of 
his  life.  These  annoyances  from  time  and  pro- 
gress he  bore  with  the  spirit  of  a  true  artist.  He 
knew  that  his  fame  was  embodied  in  durable 
material,  and  that  time,  which  interfered  for  the 
moment  with  his  revenues  and  his  popularity, 
would  do  justice  to  the  great  productions  of  his 
pencil.  He  knew  that  canvas,  if  less  durable 
than  bronze  or  marble,  has  somewhat  of  a  hold 
upon  immortality  and  will  reach  the  judgment  of 
posterity." 

The  "  Springfield  Kepublican  "  says  :  — 

"  As  a  portrait-painter,  he  was  one  of  the  first 
in  point  of  excellence  that  America  has  ever  pro- 
duced ;  and,  in  his  time,  he  was  the  first,  without 
dispute.  .  .  .  Nor  had  age  dimmed  his  power, 
though  it  had  tempered  his  ambition,  and  checked 
his  industry ;  he,  only  last  week,  gave  the  finish- 
ing touches  to  a  remarkable '  likeness  of  Gen- 
eral Sherman,  which  he  began  in  St.  Louis,  dur- 


264  CHESTER  HARDING, 


ing  the  past  season,  from  pure  enthusiasm  for  the 
soldier  and  the  man.  It  is  among  the  finest  of 
his  works,  and  can  hardly  be  excelled  by  any 
other  likeness  for  spirit  and  fidelity.  .  .  .  Spring- 
field knew  him  longest,  loved  him  best ;  and  she 
is  proud  that,  since  death  must  come  to  him,  his 
ashes  are  to  repose  in  her  bosom." 

At  a  meeting  of  the  artists  of  Boston,  to 
take  notice  of  the  death  of  Chester  Harding, 
the  following  resolutions  were  unanimously 
adopted :  — 

"Hesolved,  That  we  lament  the  loss  of  our 
brother  artist,  Chester  Harding,  who,  for  more 
than  thirty  years,  has  been  to  the  elder  of  us  a 
genial  companion,  and  noble  and  generous  rival ; 
to  the  younger,  a  sympathizing  friend  and  a 
worthy  example,  to  the  community  in  which  he 
lived,  an  esteemed  citizen  ;  an  exemplary  hus- 
band and  father,  who  has  furnished  to  posterity, 
by  his  graphic  and  prolific  pencil,  representations 
of  men  of  the  day,  and  illustrations  of  contem- 
porary history,  which  only  posterity  can  properly 
value,  but  which  have  already  placed  him  high 
in  the  ranks  of  American  art. 

"  Resolved  J  That  we  shall  cherish  the  memory 
of  his  manly  presence,  and  his  generous  and  es- 
timable qualities  of  head  and  heart." 


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